SHELTER

by Boston, Claire

  He couldn’t make the man suspicious.

  But if he wasn’t mistaken, Henk really didn’t want him speaking to Annisa.

  Which meant Zamira was probably right about him.

  Damn it.

  ***

  Zamira checked her phone for the umpteenth time. Almost midday and Jeremy still hadn’t called. How long did it take to quote for repairs?

  She sat in the back corner of Mai’s bakery, pretending to read a comic. But it was hard to concentrate.

  Finally her phone rang and she snatched it up, nearly dropping it on the floor in her haste. “Hello?”

  “It’s Jeremy. I didn’t get to see her.”

  Disappointment flooded her. “Why not?”

  “Henk said she was working. I asked him to call me when she got home, said I liked to check on all the people I rescue.”

  It was a good excuse. “Do you think he will?”

  “I don’t know.” Jeremy sighed. “Something’s odd though. No one was there except Henk. They shouldn’t all be working.”

  She agreed. “Can we find out where they’re employed?”

  “I’ll ask around at football this afternoon.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You play?” She enjoyed watching Aussie Rules football, the action, the physicality of it, the men in short shorts.

  “Yeah. My game’s at two if you want to watch a bunch of blokes run around a field.”

  It would give her something to do aside from fretting and Jeremy would look good in shorts. “Where?”

  “The town oval.” He gave directions. “Can you remember them this time?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes. I might see you there.” She hung up and sighed. At least she’d found Annisa. Should she let her mother know? Best not until she had more details. Her mother was likely to call the police immediately.

  What now? Zamira couldn’t exactly door knock on every house in town to find her cousin. But she could explore the town, familiarise herself with it just in case.

  She left the bakery and drove around making note of where the hospital, school and police station were and eventually ended up at the tourist centre again. The day was cloudy and cool, but no rain was forecast. Inside, she went over to the racks of tourist brochures and pamphlets. There was a lot to do in Blackbridge from whale watching and deep-sea fishing, to myriad wineries and food places; cheese factory, ice cream factory, olive groves and lavender and berry farms, plus a bunch of artisans and crafts people. It was a creative area.

  The Vale winery looked like a quirky place for lunch, its decor classy yet with whimsical touches. Perhaps she could take some photos while she was there. She had planned on practising her photography on her holiday. She plugged the directions into her phone and drove along the winding road, beneath the canopies of huge karri trees. Forest gave way to rolling farmland and then forest took over again. Cows, sheep and alpacas grazed on the green hills and cute farmhouses puffed smoke from their chimneys. Beautiful.

  The winery carpark was half full and surrounded by towering gum trees. No one braved the cold to sit at the tables underneath the restaurant which was raised on stilts. To one side the rows of grapevines stretched up the hill. She got her camera out of her bag and shot a couple of photos of the vines. It really was pretty and blue wrens flittered around the grevillea bushes lining the path up to the restaurant. She stopped at a distance, using her zoom lens to capture them when they were still — a difficult task.

  Some of the tension fell away as she randomly took photos of birds and flowers and whatever captured her interest. She walked around the restaurant to a small playground for children and a little further away stood a couple of large silver sheds. Probably where they made the wine. She snapped a couple of photos, zooming in to frame the door as some workers came outside. Asian men, possibly Malaysian and dressed in dark blue workmen’s gear. She took more photos as they walked into the vineyard.

  Could they be some of Henk’s workers?

  “What are you doing?” The demand had Zamira whirling around to face a woman in her forties, hands on her hips and a deep scowl on her face.

  Zamira forced a smile. “Taking a few photos before lunch.”

  The woman scowled. “No photos allowed.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” She tucked her camera back into her bag, glad she’d got some shots before the woman had appeared. “It’s fascinating to see where the wine comes from.” She widened her smile, tried for super friendly. “Do you run tours of the winery?”

  “No. Tastings are at the restaurant.”

  Zamira blinked. This woman had a lot to learn about customer service. Though she was dressed in work gear, so perhaps she didn’t often deal with the public. She bit her tongue rather than snap back. Her mother had ingrained it into her to be polite and apologetic in the face of conflict. “I’ll go inside now.”

  When Zamira reached the top of the stairs, she glanced back. The woman still watched her.

  Zamira frowned, tempted to leave rather than stay for lunch. But the delicious smells wafting from the restaurant changed her mind. She wouldn’t let one woman spoil her day.

  And at least she had a lead on where Henk’s workers could be.

  ***

  Jeremy pulled into the town oval a little before two and scanned the carpark for Zamira’s white hire car. Plenty of utes and four-wheel drives but no little white car with a logo on the side. He ignored the twinge of disappointment. Stupid to think she’d want to sit outside on a cold day and watch a small-town football game. Most of their spectators were family members, or teenagers looking for a place to hang out.

  “Jeremy, over here.” His friend, Kim waved at him from where he was speaking with Jamie and Adam.

  He wandered over. “How’s things?”

  Kim grinned. “Busy. The new delivery service is proving to be a hit. No one wants to go out on a wet winter’s night.”

  “That’s great.” He glanced at Jamie. “You going to be at the motocross next weekend?”

  “Yeah, if I can weld up my frame before then. Kit’s been too busy being a newlywed to help.”

  “I can do it after work. Give me a call.” The more helpful he was, the more likely they’d keep him around.

  Jamie grinned. “Thanks, mate.”

  “What about you?” Kim asked. “I heard you rescued a woman from a burning building.”

  It felt like a lifetime ago. “Yeah. Thursday night.” A waterproof dressing protected the couple of stitches in his hand. It would hurt to mark the ball, but his team needed him to make up the numbers. He’d manage the pain. His attention was caught by the other team walking out on the field in black and white striped jerseys, Henk in the lead. “Any of you know where Henk’s migrants are working?”

  Jamie shook his head. “Mum and Dad wanted to employ one to help at the cheese factory, but they all had jobs.”

  “A couple might work at the Vale winery,” Kim said. “They need help now Richard is ill.”

  “Why do you want to know?” Adam asked.

  “Got a couple of big jobs coming up,” Jeremy lied.

  Kim frowned. “You should ask Nicholas. He’s looking for construction work now his development has almost wrapped up.”

  “I will.” The umpire blew the whistle to get them onto the oval. “I’ve gotta put my stuff down.” He jogged into the locker rooms and dropped his backpack on one of the benches. If Henk was here, it could mean no one else was at his house. He looked at his phone. No, Zamira out there on her own was asking for trouble.

  “Hurry up, Mendelson.”

  Jeremy turned at the shout, saw Jamie waiting for him at the door. “Coming.” He dropped his phone back into his backpack and jogged out to start the game.

  ***

  Zamira parked at the town oval as the game started. She sat inside her car and scanned the players, finding Jeremy out on the oval in a red and white striped singlet. As she watched, he was tackled by a player in a black and white
jersey and she gasped. Henk. If he was here, then he wasn’t at his property. Annisa might be back from work by now.

  It was the perfect opportunity.

  She started the engine and drove out of town, her heart beating heavily in her chest. Only Henk had seen her when she’d dropped by yesterday on the pretence of being lost. She shouldn’t raise anyone’s suspicions, particularly if she bypassed the main house and went straight to the tents.

  The way out there was familiar now and she drove confidently down the gravel road, past Jeremy’s letterbox to Henk’s gate.

  His very large, metal closed gate that screamed stay away. It was the type that required a passcode to get through. On the top of one of the pillars was a security camera pointing directly at her.

  Damn it. She accelerated down the street until she was out of view. What now? Should she try the fire access track again? The electric fence was bound to be on and she didn’t feel like getting zapped today. What other options did she have?

  Annisa may already be inside the compound or she might still be working. Should Zamira wait inside Jeremy’s drive in case she returned?

  It might be a fool’s errand.

  Tomorrow would be better. Annisa would go out to work and Zamira could follow her. Then she’d definitely be able to speak to her.

  Satisfied with her plan, she did a U-turn at the end of the road and drove back to town.

  ***

  By half-time Jeremy’s team was ahead by a goal. He scanned the crowd as he slugged back water and used his towel to dry the sweat from his body. A lone figure huddled on a bench seat in a dark red jacket, a camera lifted to her face. Zamira.

  Pleasure filled him as he wandered over to her. “I didn’t think you’d make it.” She pointed the camera at him and took a couple of photos.

  When she lowered it, her smile was cautious. “I enjoy watching football.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Who do you follow?”

  “Carlton.”

  He winced. “My sympathies.”

  She laughed, the sound light and free. “They’re doing better this year than last year.”

  “They couldn’t have been worse.”

  “True. Your team is playing well.”

  He shrugged off the compliment and flexed his aching hand. “We have fun.” The breeze was cold and he shifted downwind of her in case he stank.

  “Is your hand all right?”

  He hid it behind his back. “Yeah. Old injury, just a little sore.”

  “I’ve got some painkillers in my bag if you want.”

  “That’d be great.” Another half a game with the ball slapping into his hand would be torture.

  She handed him the packet and he swallowed two tablets. As he gave them back, she hesitated. “Do you want to get a drink after the game?”

  His chest swelled and he smiled. A date.

  “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

  He exhaled. Right. Of course. Her cousin. “Sure. I’ll meet you back here after I’ve showered.” He hunched his shoulders, wrapped his arms around his waist as he jogged back to his team members.

  Kim grinned at him. “Who are you chatting up?”

  “Zamira. She’s in town on holiday and we’re going for a drink after the game.”

  Adam shook his head. “I need to watch and learn. I don’t know how you pick them up so fast.” He rubbed his bare chin. “Maybe I should grow a beard.”

  Jeremy laughed. Let them think they’d just met. Less questions that way. “It’s all about confidence.” Normally he didn’t care when women turned him down. Long-term relationships weren’t for him.

  Love lasted only until you did something wrong. His family had proven that.

  He rubbed at the pain in his chest as the umpire blew his whistle. “Let’s beat these guys. I’ve got a date to get to.” He winked at his friends and jogged out on the field.

  Chapter 5

  It was a pleasure watching Jeremy play football. His red and white striped singlet exposed his muscled biceps and the short shorts revealed his legs were equally toned. He was also a good player, scoring goals, tackling the opposition and keeping the ball moving. Zamira took photos of the action, playing with her camera settings to get a sharper image, changing lenses to zoom in on the action. Focusing on her technique and trying to get the right shot calmed her, allowed her worries about Annisa to fade a little. A couple of times she caught Jeremy’s face screwed up in pain as he marked the ball. His hand was hurting more than he let on.

  Despite living in Melbourne, the home of Australian Rules football, she hadn’t been to a live game in a long time. Not since her best friend had moved away and their weekly tradition ended. It didn’t feel right going with anyone else. This was a different atmosphere. Kids played chasey on the grass and the small crowd yelled encouragement and beeped their car horns when their team scored. It was a community.

  She’d witnessed the same thing at the beach after lunch. She’d taken photos of the surf as the waves crashed onto the sand and people walked their dogs, stopping to chat for a good ten minutes or more. It was nice to take the time to soak up the day, observe life.

  She shivered as a gust of icy wind hit her. After going out to Henk’s, she’d parked at the bed and breakfast and walked down to the oval. Her hire car was too noticeable with the logo on the side door and she didn’t want to attract Henk’s attention. The hot chocolate from the canteen was all she had to warm her.

  When the final siren wailed, Zamira couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. Jeremy walked with his team mates into the locker rooms and she stayed where she was. Hopefully his shower wouldn’t take long.

  The image of Jeremy naked and wet popped into her head and she blinked rapidly to clear it. It was so unlike her to sexualise a man. She barely dated anymore, unless her parents set her up with some new suitor. She’d had too many failures at university. She blamed her parents for sending her to an all-girls high school and discouraging any interaction with boys she wasn’t related to. Her uncertainty, part of her longing to widen her experiences and the other part echoing her mother’s warnings had led to some awkward hook-ups. She’d had one short-term boyfriend, who after their first dismal attempts in the bedroom had agreed they should just be friends. At least they’d had fun discussing the latest Marvel comic or movie.

  She sighed.

  But she wasn’t ready to give into her parents’ pressure to marry someone of their choosing. She wanted to have her career on track before she settled down.

  Around her car engines growled as people left. The canteen had rolled its shutters down already so no chance for more hot chocolate. She hugged her rain jacket tighter around her. Maybe she should wait near the locker rooms, out of the wind, but a lot of people mingled over there. They’d wonder who she was.

  She rubbed her arms and stayed seated.

  Ten minutes later Jeremy came out, his hair damp and a backpack slung over one shoulder. He wore jeans and a dark blue woollen jumper, and he chatted to a couple of his team mates.

  Zamira stood and then hesitated. He might be talking privately. She should wait until he approached her.

  He waved her over.

  She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them again as she approached. The other men studied her.

  “Zamira, this is Kim and Jamie,” Jeremy said.

  “Hi.” Kim was of Asian descent, with short dark hair and dark eyes, and around her height, but Jamie was a lot taller and had some kind of Mediterranean ancestry, brown hair, brown eyes and his designer beard trimmed to perfection. Both attractive, but neither stirred her nerves like Jeremy did.

  “Nice to meet you.” Jamie stuck out his hand and she shook it, his grip firm. He turned to Jeremy. “I’ll call you about the bike.”

  Jeremy nodded and waved as they left. Then he turned his attention to her, and his gaze was all encompassing.

  She swallowed. “Ah, where do you suggest we go for a drink?”

  “The pub will be
packed,” he said. “Everyone goes for a drink after the game, so it will be noisy. It might be a good place to talk without being overheard.”

  Nice and public was good. “If you give me directions, I’ll meet you there.”

  “Follow my car. I know what you’re like with directions.” He winked.

  She deserved that. “I walked down.”

  “Then I’ll give you a lift. It’s not far and I’ll drop you back when we’re done.”

  Don’t get into a car with a strange man. Zamira wished she could shut her mother’s voice off in her head. There’d been so many warnings over the years. “I don’t want to put you out.”

  “Don’t sweat it.” He gestured for her to follow as he walked towards the carpark.

  It would be fine. He was being nice.

  His ute was very much a work vehicle. Its silver canopy had sides that could fold open and on top was a ladder and other bits of equipment. When she opened the passenger door, chocolate bar wrappers littered the floor and she wrinkled her nose.

  “Sorry. Give me a second.” Jeremy reached over from the driver’s side and picked up the wrappers. “I don’t have many passengers.”

  And he didn’t clean up after himself. Strange that the outside of his house had been so neat and tidy.

  The pub was on the corner of the main street, across the road from the river. Its burgundy brick walls gave it a rich dignified air, and as Jeremy opened the door, raised voices and the scent of beer wafted out. Some country rock tune thumped over the speakers.

  Jeremy bent closer to her and pointed. “Grab the corner booth while it’s free. I’ll get us drinks. What would you like?”

  She fumbled for her purse. She didn’t want him to buy her drink. She’d asked him here.

  He placed a hand on hers. “My shout. You can get the next round.”

  His smile melted her concerns. “Ginger ale, please.”

  He looked surprised but nodded. “Won’t be long.”

  Zamira headed for the corner booth and slid inside, choosing the far side so she had a view of the rest of the pub. She recognised Jamie and Kim with a group of other men. Jeremy had chosen a drink with her over his friends.