SHELTER

by Boston, Claire

  He ran a hand over his face, his damp beard, and let out a deep breath. She wasn’t judging him.

  Zamira handed him a glass and a packet of painkillers. “Thought you might need these too.”

  His heart squeezed. If he wasn’t careful he was going to fall for this beautiful, thoughtful, passionate woman. That would only end in more pain.

  “Do you feel like eating?”

  Dinner. She was probably starving. “I can cook the steaks.” He headed for the kitchen though the thought of food made him nauseous. It was too cold outside to fire up the barbecue so he’d make do with the frying pan.

  The sizzle of the steaks cooking and the meaty smell stimulated his stomach, set it rumbling. Maybe he would eat something.

  Zamira set the table, placing the salad on it and it wasn’t long before they sat down to eat. She cleared her throat. “So what did your sister want?”

  His chest tightened at the mention of her. “She wants to meet for coffee tomorrow.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Yes. The thought of her there with him, gave him strength. But relying on people gave them the power to hurt. “You don’t have to.”

  “I’d like to if it will help. I could get a table nearby in case you need me.”

  Her gentle smile cut through his good intentions. He’d never had someone stand by him. “All right. We’re meeting at eight at the bakery.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He covered her hand with his. “Thanks.”

  “It’s the least I can do. You’ve helped me so much.”

  Hurt made him lean back, pull his hand away. Was she simply repaying a debt?

  He hoped it was more than that.

  Chapter 14

  Jeremy stared up at the stars shining through his skylight. He’d gone to bed with Zamira, but had been listening to her heavy breathing for the past hour and imagining every possible way the meeting with Moira could go wrong. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t getting any sleep so he might as well finish his desk. He went out to the shed, slipped his safety glasses on and got to work, putting the sides together, shaping the top, and then varnishing the cedar wood with a clear gloss that showed off the beautiful grain to its full extent. It was something he could make in his sleep and didn’t occupy his mind enough.

  His thoughts raced from the day of the accident, to the expression on his mother’s face when she’d kicked him out, to Moira’s hopeful expression when she’d suggested coffee. Then Zamira invaded, sometimes screwing up her face in disgust and other times being sweet and comforting. She was leaving him soon.

  His heart ached.

  With the desk complete, he was still too wired to sleep. He couldn’t do any more cutting or sanding without risking dust sticking to the wet varnish so he needed something else to keep him busy. He should make Fetch a dog house. He was getting older and the cold affected him more. If he made a collapsible house, he could tuck it into the back of his ute with some pillows so Fetch would be comfortable on the odd times when he came to work with him.

  But how to make it easy to break down and set up, yet still waterproof and wind resistant?

  He found a spare sketch book and drew, scribbling out ideas that wouldn’t work, making adjustments. He worked until his eyes grew heavy and his mind slowed down. When he found himself doodling, he put the pad aside and walked back into the house, stripping off his dirty clothes in the laundry and walking naked through to his bedroom. The luminous clock on his bedside table showed three in the morning. At least he’d get a couple of hours’ sleep before he had to get up.

  His head hit the pillow and he stared up at the clouds through his skylight until sleep dragged him under.

  When his alarm chimed a few hours later, Jeremy groaned, fumbling for the button to switch it off. It was still dark outside.

  “Morning,” Zamira mumbled.

  He reached out to pull her close, wanting to run his hands along her body and find comfort, but paused mid reach. She could leave today. He climbed out of bed. “Go back to sleep. It’s early.” The caravan park office opened at seven for the few guests who liked to leave at dawn, but it meant he could start too. He’d get some work done before he had coffee with his sister.

  Goosebumps leapt to his skin and he rubbed his arms. It would be fine.

  “I’ll see you later,” Zamira said, her voice sleepy.

  Should he remind her about the meeting with his sister? No. She’d remember if it was important to her. He dressed in the bathroom and left Fetch sleeping in his bed.

  The caravan park owner, Mr Walter, greeted him with a firm handshake. “I appreciate you starting early.”

  “Suits me too. I need to duck off at eight for a meeting, but I’ll be back afterwards.”

  “I’ll leave you to it.”

  Jeremy set an alarm on his phone to remind him when he needed to leave and then threw himself into the work. Fatigue made it harder to concentrate so he shut out all other thought and focused on what he was doing. All too soon though, his alarm beeped. His chest squeezed. Would Moira even turn up?

  He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t a chicken.

  Wiping his hands on a rag, he went into the temporary office. Lynette manned the desk. She smiled at him. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. I need to duck out for a meeting, but I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Oh, are you going anywhere near Mai’s bakery?”

  “Yeah. Do you want something?”

  She reached for her purse. “Could you buy me a pork banh mi? I left my lunch in the fridge this morning.”

  “Sure.” He waved away the money. “I’ve got it.”

  He walked out and drove the short distance to the bakery. Parking the truck was a little more difficult, but he found a spot one street over and walked back. He should have washed his hands before he left, should have checked his hair or something. Nerves rained down in his stomach like sawdust flying from a table saw.

  Mai might let him wash up out the back.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door of the bakery open, the tinkle of the bell announcing his presence to all inside. He scanned the room, but neither Moira nor Zamira was there. Just like he’d figured. He huffed out a breath. Give them a chance. He was a little early.

  Jodie grinned at him. “Hey, Jeremy. What can I get you?”

  “Can I have a quick word with Mai?”

  “Come on back.” She gestured and he walked through into the stainless steel kitchen. Mai was mixing some kind of dough. She glanced up.

  “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve got a meeting and I forgot to wash up. Can I use your sink?”

  She grinned at him. “Go for it. I’ve got a comb in my office.”

  He grimaced. “Is my hair that bad?”

  “It’s typical you, but if you want to impress… Who are you meeting?”

  He hesitated. No one in Blackbridge knew his history. “A client.” He washed his hands and arms and when he turned, Mai handed him a hand towel and a comb.

  He dried and then combed his hair. “Any better?”

  “Yeah. Go knock their socks off.”

  Her smile gave him some confidence. “Thanks.” As he walked out of the kitchen, he turned back. “Could you make me a pork banh mi to go? I’m working over at Blackbridge Holiday Park and Lynette forgot her lunch.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks.” He went back into the cafe.

  Zamira was standing at the counter and her eyes widened. “Hey.”

  She’d remembered. Some of the nerves in his stomach settled. “Hey.” He kissed her and then checked the cafe. Still no sign of Moira.

  He ordered a black coffee and an apple pie and paid for both their orders.

  “Take a seat. I’ll bring it out,” Jodie said.

  A couple of tables by the window were free.

  “She’s not here yet?” Zamira asked.

  He shook his head and went over to the wind
ow. Zamira followed him, hesitating by the table. “Do you want me to keep you company until she arrives?”

  The door chimed and Jeremy glanced over, his belly tight. Gladys and Barbara. He didn’t need to be caught in a conversation with either of them today. “Yes, please.”

  She slid into the seat opposite him and he tugged on his beard. “What have you been up to this morning?”

  “Waiting for Franklin to call,” she said. “And hanging out with Fetch.”

  Jeremy smiled. “I’m sure he appreciated it.”

  She chuckled. “From the amount of drool that came out of his mouth, I’d say he did. Though maybe you should ask the vet if that’s normal.”

  He laughed and a little bit of tension left his shoulders. The bell above the door tinkled again, but this time it was Kim and he waved to Jodie, heading straight out the back to see his sister.

  Jeremy let out a breath.

  Zamira covered his hand with hers. “She’ll be here soon.”

  He didn’t tell her about the one thought he’d had where this was all an elaborate joke and his mother and sisters were sitting in a car somewhere, watching him getting more tense and laughing at his expense.

  “Where are you working this morning?” Zamira asked.

  “Blackbridge Holiday Park. They need a new reception desk.”

  “Were you making it last night?”

  “Yeah, it was one of the things.”

  Jodie brought over their coffees. “Here you go. I’ll get your food.”

  Jeremy sipped his coffee, almost scalding his tongue. Damn. He checked the time. Ten past. Some people were always late, though Moira shouldn’t be. Their mother had always drilled into them that being late was the height of rudeness, it implied you didn’t value the other person or their time.

  Jodie put their food on the table. “Enjoy!”

  “I should go,” he said when Jodie left.

  Zamira’s smile was sympathetic. “Eat your pie. If nothing else, we get to spend some extra time together today.”

  He wasn’t certain it was a good thing. Being with her made him happy. She would break his heart. He stuffed the apple pie into his mouth, but barely tasted it.

  “What would you like for dinner tonight?”

  He blinked. “Won’t you be busy with Franklin?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I can prepare something in case.”

  Food was the last thing on his mind. “Whatever.”

  The doorbell jingled again as people left. Moira wasn’t coming.

  He should have known.

  He drank the rest of his coffee and pushed back his chair. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Jeremy, give her a few more minutes.

  He shook his head as his phone beeped. He glanced at the screen and his skin tingled. Call-out. Another traffic accident. Saved by the text. “I have to go. There’s been another crash.” He got to his feet as Mai hurried towards him.

  “You going?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He had value to some people.

  “I’ll take Lynette her food and text Lawrence.”

  “Thanks.” He turned back to Zamira. “I’ll call you later.”

  Her eyes were worried. “Be safe.”

  He nodded and hurried out the door.

  ***

  The sirens wailed as Jeremy drove the fast attack vehicle, following the fire tanker to the crash. He slowed as the tanker braked and he got his first view of the accident. He whistled.

  The black sedan had T-boned a little white hatchback and ploughed it into a tree on the opposite side of the road. Bonnets crumpled and glass everywhere. The drivers in both vehicles were slumped against the steering wheels, but the back door of the sedan was open. Had someone managed to escape?

  “You ready?” he asked Nicholas.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  A good response. No matter how many times Jeremy had attended a crash, he was never totally prepared. He braced himself and strode over to where Lawrence assessed the situation with the paramedics.

  “What have we got?”

  “Driver in the sedan is deceased,” Guy said, his voice low. “Looks like there was someone in the passenger seat, but they’re gone, probably managed to get out the back door. We’ll need to search for them in case they’re disoriented and hurt. Twenty-three-year-old female in the hatchback, suspected broken pelvis.”

  “We’ll need to move the sedan before we can get to the hatchback driver,” Lawrence said.

  Jeremy nodded. “I’ll get the tow set up.”

  “No, you go talk to the driver. You’re good at calming them down.” Lawrence waved to Lincoln as the police arrived.

  Jeremy gritted his teeth as scenes of past crashes flooded him, the blood and fear. At least the fear proved the victims were still alive, unlike the stillness of his father’s accident. He braced himself as he pushed his way through the bush, around the tree until he reached the driver’s side window. The woman’s sobs tore at his heart. “Hey, I’m Jeremy. We’ll get you out of there,” he said. “You’ll be all right.”

  He managed to squeeze close enough to see the driver and his heart stopped. “Moira?” His little sister’s face was covered in blood and she still gripped the steering wheel.

  “Jeremy?” she sobbed. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re here. How did you know? The car, it came out of nowhere. I couldn’t swerve.” Her voice raised in pitch, getting hysterical.

  He carefully removed the remaining glass in the window and then took off his glove, placing a hand on her arm. “It’s OK, Moi-Moi. I’m here. I need you to stay calm for me. Take a couple of deep breaths, ready? In… and out…”

  She gasped, tears flowing down her face but she tried to do as he said. He assessed the situation. The door was crumpled, dented inwards from the impact of the tree and the steering wheel was hard against her chest. No massive amounts of blood though, no immediate danger to her. “That’s it. Just like you used to do with dancing, steady breathing.”

  “You remember that?” Her disbelief was far better than her panic.

  “Of course. You made me learn the steps and you always said breathing was the most important thing.”

  Her laugh turned into a cough and when she removed her hand from her mouth, there was blood on it.

  Not good.

  He glanced over the roof to where Nicholas and Lawrence hitched a tow rope to the sedan. “Coming?” he called. It was code for hurry the fuck up and Guy strode over to them, a neck brace in his hand.

  Jeremy moved out of the way, but Moira grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her with a smile. Inside his stomach tied in knots but he couldn’t let her see it. “I need to make room for Guy so he can put that annoying neck brace on you. I’ll be the other side of the tree.” He kept talking as he removed her hand from his arm and shifted out of the way. “Remember when we were kids, you used to love the peek-a-boo game. I played it with you for hours.” His chest squeezed at the memory and he moved around the tree. Then he stuck his head around the side of it. “Peek-a-boo.”

  She groaned, but it was playful.

  “You two know each other?” Guy asked as he put the brace in place.

  “Moira’s my baby sister.”

  Guy’s mouth dropped open.

  A screech of metal and tinkle of glass as the tanker dragged the black sedan away from the hatchback. Jeremy winced.

  “You should call your parents, get them to meet us at Albany Hospital.” Guy’s words were far too casual. Jeremy recognised his tone. It meant things were worse than they appeared. He met Guy’s concerned gaze.

  Shit.

  Moira could have internal bleeding. He had to get her out. He wouldn’t be responsible for another death in his family.

  With the sedan out of the way, Nicholas set up the line to move the hatchback. Over at the sedan, one of the other fire-fighters used the Jaws of Life to pry open the driver
’s door.

  “Moi, do you have your phone on you?”

  She coughed up more blood. “In my bag.”

  He moved around the car, glancing in the windows until he found her handbag on the floor of the passenger side. The window was already smashed, so he reached in and pulled her bag out. “What’s the code?”

  “Six, eight, five, two.”

  He entered it and scrolled through her contacts. His finger hesitated on the call button to his mother. This wasn’t about him, this was about Moira. Gritting his teeth, he called.

  “Moira, you know better than to call me during the day.” The uptight proper tone of her voice hadn’t changed at all. His chest squeezed and he said, “Mum, it’s Jeremy. Moira’s been in an accident.”

  The sharp gasp was painful. “What? Is this some kind of joke? How did you get Moira’s phone?”

  Of course she didn’t believe him. Stick to the facts. “I work with fire and rescue. There’s been a two-car crash and Moira was driving one of the cars. We’re working on extracting her from the vehicle and then she’ll be taken to Albany Hospital.”

  “Is she all right?”

  He closed his eyes at the fear in her voice. “She’s conscious and responding well to questions,” he said. “The paramedics suspect she’s broken her pelvis.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Before Jeremy could ask her to call Moira’s fiancé, she hung up.

  He walked back to the car. “Mum will meet you at the hospital,” he said. “What’s your fiancé’s name again?”

  “Ollie.”

  He flicked through the contacts until he found the right one and dialled, walking away from the car so Lawrence could shift it away from the tree.

  A man answered. “Hey, baby. How did the meeting with your brother go?”

  Jeremy winced. “Ollie, it’s Jeremy. Moira didn’t make it to the meeting. She’s been in a car crash.” He kept talking as Ollie gasped. “She’s conscious and will be taken to Albany Hospital as soon as we get her out of the car.”

  “She’s stuck? Why are you there?”

  “I work for fire and rescue,” he said. “I’ve called Mum and she’s going to meet us at the hospital. You should go there too.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”