Fly In Fly Out

by Evie Snow

  “You’re just saying that because you’ve been so long between men you probably had cobwebs up your coochie. So. Am I happy for you or am I stocking up on Kleenex?” Amy asked, eyes serious despite her smile.

  “Not sure yet.” Jo avoided eye contact and instead studied her fingers wrapped around the blue-and-white-striped mug half full of tea. “I’m off to work again in a few more days. You know how it usually goes. They’re sweetness and light when I leave, and they’re not around when I get back.”

  It took a massive effort to say the words without choking. The last week had been earthshaking for Jo, and the thought of Stephen not being around when she came home the next time felt like a knife in the gut.

  “Yeah. Except this time the guy is staying in your house. Don’t get me wrong. I love Stephen. I wouldn’t have suggested he house-sit if I didn’t. But I didn’t think this would happen.”

  Jo gave her sister a disbelieving look.

  “Alright, so I hoped something would happen, knowing how much you used to like him, but I didn’t think it would happen,” Amy clarified, apple cheeks turning red. “Look, petal, you better not blame me if this goes south.”

  “Chill out. After the last time, we learned our lesson, didn’t we?” she asked, referring to the time they’d fought over Amy dumping her ex-boyfriend—Jo’s friend Liam—years before.

  “Yeah, we did.” Amy fidgeted and gave Jo an expectant look. “Scott know?”

  Jo shook her head. “Nope. Haven’t gotten around to it yet. He’ll probably gloat though.”

  Amy grinned. “He’ll be painful.”

  Chapter 9

  Stephen smoothly maneuvered his Lexus through the morning peak-hour traffic clogging the Kwinana Freeway as they headed out of Perth, all the while sneaking surreptitious glances at Jo. They hadn’t said much about today’s trip, other than agreeing on a time to leave. Every time he’d tried to bring it up, Jo had changed the topic. Well, if you call pushing a man flat on his back and pleasurably assaulting him changing the topic.

  He was getting restless. He wanted to ask her about what had happened years ago, only to be stopped every time by a wave of dread at the thought of hearing just how much he’d screwed up her life.

  When Scott had approached Stephen about the whole cat-sitting thing, Stephen had been pretty damn shocked. He still couldn’t quite believe things had panned out this way. Hell, he still didn’t know if Scott and Jo had been an item. That night, he’d seen Jo and Scott at the dam, and Jo had been nearly naked in an old ratty sports bra and shorts that had almost fallen down as she’d roughhoused with Scott. Stephen could still remember the jealously he’d felt over his younger cousin getting with such a hot girl. When he’d worked out that girl was Jo, half the reason he’d been so pissed off was that he’d never really paid attention to her other than telling the odd bully to back off.

  Today he was acutely aware that he hardly knew anything about Jo’s childhood even though they’d grown up only a walk away from each other. Jo hadn’t talked about her parents once in the last few months and had gone tight-lipped whenever he’d brought Shirley and Ken up. As much as Stephen’s family drove him insane at times, they were close, really close. He couldn’t imagine not being happy to talk about them if given the chance.

  He would have asked more questions if it hadn’t been for Jo’s reserve and the warning Scott had given him not to bring up the past when he’d first told Stephen about Amy Blaine’s barber-salon years back. As uncomfortable as it might be, Stephen was thinking it was time to bring up the topic soon. There was too much he didn’t know.

  “Everything alright over there?” he asked, peering sideways at Jo’s tense expression. She was picking at a frayed patch in the leg of her jeans, staring out the window. “Jo?” he tried again, voice a bit louder this time.

  “Yeah?” She looked at him, eyes unfocused. They had dark circles under them again, like she hadn’t slept.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “What?”

  “I asked if you were okay.”

  She looked at him blankly again before visibly descending to earth from whatever planet she’d been orbiting. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”

  “Heavy thoughts?” He looked in his rearview before changing lanes and speeding up to the limit now that the traffic had lessened.

  “Yeah.”

  “Want to talk about it?” He accelerated the car past a large furniture-removal truck. They were still driving through the endless suburbia that characterized the areas south of the city. He was looking forward to seeing some proper bush and countryside, but that wouldn’t be for another hour or so.

  “What was that call you took last night?” Jo asked in a distant voice, not answering his question.

  Stephen wrinkled his brow, mentally changing gears. “You mean the prank caller? He calls every now and then around six. It’s probably just a wrong number or some weird problem with the phone lines. Or a telemarketer who’s really bad at their job. Why?”

  She didn’t say anything for around two minutes, and Stephen forced himself to wait her out, feeling a growing sense of frustration and unease.

  “When did the calls start?” she asked eventually.

  “I don’t know. Around two months ago, I think.”

  “So around the time I was in town last?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, probably. Sounds about right.”

  “They ever said anything? You ever heard anything in the background?”

  “No. Usually, the minute they hear my voice, they hang up. This isn’t related to that psycho call you got that night you came back from visiting your parents a few months ago, is it?” He looked at her, feeling every muscle in his body tense, ready for war.

  Jo glanced out the window again. “Nah . . . that was just some guy from work pissed off with me. Nothing to worry about.” She turned and gently rested her hand on his thigh. “Sorry for being a moody bitch. I’m a bit distracted this morning. Have I thanked you for the ride?”

  He felt disoriented at the shift in her mood, debating whether or not to push the topic and ask a lot more questions. He decided they could wait for now. “Not yet. Shouldn’t I be thanking you for keeping me company?”

  “I might be up for accepting your most gracious appreciation,” she said, and for the first time that morning, he saw a bit of color come into her cheeks as she smiled and waggled her brows.

  He let out a surprised burst of laughter. “That’ll have to wait to later. Bit hard to show my appreciation properly while I’m driving.”

  They spent the rest of the trip talking about their favorite music and movies. Jo liked alternative rock, Stephen liked a more chilled-out club sound. Jo loved indie films, but it turned out they both had a guilty soft spot for Adam Sandler and British gangster flicks.

  The light mood lasted until they reached the outskirts of George Creek, and then for some reason, Jo clammed up again.

  “You sure you want to go see your parents first instead of stopping off for some breakfast?” Stephen asked, noticing Jo’s tense expression.

  “Yeah, just take me straight to Mum and Dad’s.” Jo’s mouth narrowed into a thin line. “You don’t have to wait for me. I’ll walk over and meet you at the house in an hour or so.”

  “Sure?” Stephen asked, preferring to come pick her up, but knowing enough about Jo by now to know any argument wouldn’t be welcome.

  “Yep.”

  She fell into the same distracted silence that had characterized the first part of their drive as they pulled through town and toward the Hardy family’s property. As they turned down the rutted old dirt driveway leading up to the Blaine place, Stephen saw Jo’s knuckles turn white as she gripped her knees. Ken Blaine’s old Hilux was parked out the front of her parents’ ramshackle house.

  “Oh hell,” she muttered in a low voice then turned large, shadowed eyes on Stephen. “Can you stick around a few minutes?” She reached out to rest an ice-cold hand on his arm. “Just to say hi. Please?”r />
  “Yeah. Sure. You and your dad having some problems?”

  “No more than the usual family crap. It’s nothing to worry about. I just don’t want to give Dad a reason to think I’ve put you off of being social.”

  They’d only just stepped onto the baked brown lawn in front of the house when the front door opened and Ken Blaine stepped out wearing his usual work clothes—an immaculately ironed faded blue shirt and green shorts and spit-polished work boots. Stephen couldn’t be sure, but the older man looked thinner than when he’d last seen him. So did his short gray hair.

  “Ken. How are ya?” he called out.

  “Stephen, mate. Haven’t seen you in ages. A couple of months now. How ya going? Your dad know you’re here?” Ken boomed in the same easy-going voice Stephen remembered him using when he had instructed Stephen on how to ride his motorbike properly when he was a kid.

  “Yeah. Alright, mate,” Stephen replied, walking with Jo at his side, feet crunching over the dead grass surrounding the Blaines’ house to shake Ken’s hand. “I’m about to drop in on Dad now. We’ve got a few things to talk about, and I offered to bring Jo down since I was coming this way.”

  Ken flashed him a wide, nicotine-stained smile. “Thanks, mate. Thanks. Well, I’ve got to get to work running your Uncle Les’s sheep down to the yards for tomorrow’s sales.” He scratched his stomach and flicked his eyes over Jo. “Didn’t know you two knew each other. Small world, eh?”

  “Yeah. Well. Jo’s been kind enough to share her place with me the last few months.” Stephen smiled at Jo, but her face had turned stark white and her expression unreadable. He felt his smile slip. What the hell was going on?

  “That’s nice. Yeah. That’s really nice. Jo lives in a good area too, right? Where was it again?” Ken reached into his pocket to pull out a blue packet of Drum tobacco and some rolling papers. He deftly rolled a thin cigarette with his meaty, scarred fingers and lit it up.

  Stephen opened his mouth to say that Fremantle was great, but Jo wrapped her hand around his wrist in a tight grip before he could get the words out. He shot her a confused glance, but she wasn’t looking at him, she was still watching Ken.

  “Stephen, cancel what I said earlier. How about you head off, and I’ll meet you later?”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but she turned to him with a tight smile.

  “I’ll see you in an hour or so.”

  “You sure?” He tried to read her expression, but she had a world-class poker face and he didn’t want to push it in front of her dad. Not when he didn’t know the lay of the land, not when he knew that the whole reason she was probably uncomfortable around her father right now was because of what he’d done years back. Seeing Jo’s expression right now, he wished he could go back in time and boot himself up the ass five ways to Sunday.

  “Yeah.”

  “Alright, but call me if you need anything or if you want me to pick you up instead.” He turned to Ken. “I’ll catch you later, mate. Can’t keep Angie waiting. She’ll tan my hide if I don’t turn up for breakfast.” It was entirely true, but Jo still had a grip on his wrist and he wasn’t moving until she let go.

  Ken wheezed out a chuckle that sounded like an accordion with a leak. “Yeah, mate. Don’t want to keep a woman waiting. Never know what they’ll do when they’re pissed off.”

  “Don’t let us keep you, Dad,” Jo said tightly.

  “No, love. No. I was just going, like I said. Wouldn’t want to go to work without you giving me a kiss hello though, would I?” Ken held out his arms expectantly. “C’mon, love, give your old man a kiss.”

  Jo stayed right where she was, her grip on Stephen’s wrist tightening momentarily before she let go. She still didn’t move an inch closer to her father.

  After a while Ken dropped his arms and whistled through his teeth around his cigarette. “Women! Must be that time of the month, eh?” He gave Stephen a conspiratorial wink. “Good to see ya.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

  They watched him drive off. He waved as he passed them.

  “You alright?” Stephen asked Jo, who was watching Ken’s dust.

  She shuddered once before turning to face him. “Yeah. I’m alright. Like I said, the old man and I just don’t get on that well and we’ve had a bit of a fight recently. It’s nothing you need to worry about though. Thanks for waiting. I’ll see you in a while.”

  Stephen scanned her face, trying to come up with the right things to say. Before he could speak, she gave him a tight smile that didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Really. I’m fine. I’ll see you soon. Nothing to worry about.”

  “You sure?” He met her gaze directly, holding it long enough for her to know he was serious. “Because I can stick around and keep you company while you visit your mum.”

  “I’m fine.” Her tone was adamant. “Go have breakfast with your family. The walk over’ll do me good. It’ll help me unwind a bit.”

  “Yeah. Alright.” Leaving against his better judgment, but knowing he couldn’t push things any further, he braved a quick kiss on Jo’s lips before following in Ken’s wake.

  * * *

  Shirley Blaine was wiping dishes at the sink by the kitchen window when Jo let herself into the house. Her mother was wearing a blousy pastel-pink shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted jeans that made her birdlike frame appear even more fragile than normal. Her hair was pulled into a tight French braid. Neat as always.

  Seeing her mum standing there, Jo felt herself transported back to the time before they’d had this horrible awkwardness between them. She’d play with Amy on the kitchen floor while her mum would be at the stove cooking something that filled the whole house with rich, mouth-watering scents that had made Jo’s tummy rumble. Those moments had been few and far between but the memory of them still caused a lump to form in her throat.

  She cleared it softly. “Hi, Mum.”

  “Hello, yourself,” Shirley said in a voice similar to Jo’s but raspier from her pack-a-day habit.

  “How are you?”

  “Good. No thanks to you,” Shirley snapped, facing Jo in a quick, agitated movement and giving her a familiar long-suffering glare.

  So much for nostalgia and small talk. Jo didn’t even bother to ask what Shirley was referring to. “He hasn’t touched you, though, has he? It was worth it.”

  She had her answer from the easy way Shirley moved when she snatched a packet of cigarettes off the counter and lit one, taking a long drag. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shirley retorted, blowing smoke at Jo in a long exhalation.

  A stabbing headache began at the back of Jo’s skull. Shirley had always looked the other way when Ken behaved badly, even when he was behaving badly at her. No doubt she’d defend him now the same as she had years ago. The thought left Jo feeling like she was cracking open inside.

  “Yeah, you do,” Jo said sadly. “Mum, I’m not sticking around long. Stephen Hardy just dropped me over here so I could check on you.”

  “And you can see I’m just fine. Just like I was a few months ago before you butted in.” Shirley took another long draw and shook her head, unwittingly contradicting her verbal response.

  “I can see that,” Jo replied tightly.

  “If you want a cuppa tea, I’m too busy,” Shirley said brusquely, turning back to her dishes, furiously inhaling through her cigarette.

  “I don’t need one. Mum, I know you’re angry . . .”

  “Too right I am.”

  “But promise me, if you have any trouble, you’ll call me or Amy.” Jo put her hand on her mother’s bony shoulder. Shirley flinched but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the gesture. “I know you’re fine, but you never know what the future will bring.”

  Shirley gave a curt nod.

  Jo sighed. “Well. I have to go. I promised to meet Stephen. Bye, Mum.” Feeling like an awkward, bumbling giant, she bent down and kissed Shirley on the cheek.

  She felt like an idiot for the gesture, sick
to her stomach from guilt. Like she was doing something wrong in trying to stop her old man from beating her mum, like it was her fault he’d been beating her in the first place. If she and Amy hadn’t left . . . No. Not going there.

  She waited for Shirley to turn around, to say goodbye, to say anything.

  “Close the door properly when you leave,” her mother said eventually.

  Shoulders slumping, Jo did just that.

  It was a massive relief to walk out of the yard through the large paddock next to the house. It was laying fallow this year and was covered in nibbled-down grass shoots that were broken up by random, rutted sheep trails. The weather was cool, almost cold, but Jo welcomed it as a distraction from the persistent ache in her stomach.

  No wonder she’d been overweight as a kid. She’d spent her whole childhood trying to push this ugly feeling down with food but not succeeding until she’d finally gone numb one day when she was fifteen. She snarled and kicked a small stone in her way, sending it flying. Why the hell did everything have to be so hard?

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket, providing a welcome interruption to her thoughts. She felt herself automatically relax at the sound of Scott’s voice.

  “Want to come diving with me today? I’ve got a sweet photo shoot on Rottnest Island,” he asked before she could even get through a hello.

  Jo winced. She loved scuba diving and would normally jump at the chance, cool weather or not. Rottnest, a small picturesque island off the Perth coast, was a particular favorite of hers. “Damn. I’d love to, but I’m on the farm right now.” She tucked the phone into the crook of her neck while undoing a homemade wire gate, letting herself through to the next paddock, and securing it again.

  “What? Why? What’s happened? You by yourself?” Scott demanded in quick succession.

  “Nothing major, so relax. I needed to check on Mum after last time. Stephen gave me a lift, and yeah, I’m walking by myself over to your Uncle Rob’s place now.” Jo counted off answers on her fingers even though no one could see her.