by PJ Vye
“What do you want?” asked Malia, who was leaning against a broom under the concrete canopy. Leaves from the surrounding gardenia bushes lay all over the floor, and the wind made her job pointless.
The whole time Sunny had known Malia, she’d always been the person you could count on. Malia thrived on making other people’s lives easier. She was perfectly suited as Violoa’s assistant. Plenty of opportunities to please with very little recognition in return.
Sunny took the time to smile at Malia. “Is Violoa here?”
Her smile wasn’t returned. “Why?”
“Malia, it’s really nice to see you,” said Sunny, and walked toward the woman. “This is my daughter, Atali.”
Sunny watched the conflict on Malia’s face. It went against her nature to not be co-operative. She loved toddlers. Malia stretched out her arms and Atali leaned over to be held. Malia beamed and carried her away, singing Heads, Shoulders, Knees & Toes in Samoan. “Violoa’s in her office,” said Malia over her shoulder.
“Thank you,” said Sunny.
The day was warm and any children stuck in their dormitory today would be hot and miserable. She found Violoa at her desk, mindlessly eating from an open packet of crisps as she worked on a laptop with a broken corner. She looked hot and uncomfortable—the room was usually air-conditioned but not today. Violoa cursed as the computer mouse moved unexpectedly. She spoke without looking up, “aumai sau komipiuta.”
“Violoa, it’s me.”
The venom on the director’s face as she recognised Sunny’s voice could have poisoned full grown trees. “What do you want?”
Sunny took a seat, hoping it would slow down the process of being thrown out. “Violoa, I’m here to apologise. Please, just give me a minute.”
“Apologise? Apologise? No amount of apology…le sili ona laaive, valea, ma’imau lapisi—”
“I get it, I get it. I fucked up. Let me explain.”
Violoa covered her eyes with her hands, and Sunny thought for a minute she was crying. She’d never thought of Violoa as someone with feelings. She realised her mistake when Violoa removed her hands and bared her teeth. “Who cares about how or why it’s so bad for you? I don’t care.”
Forgiveness wasn’t something that would be handed out today, and Sunny hadn’t expected it would. She changed tack. “How much did Carrie steal?”
Violoa ignored the question and shook the computer mouse frantically, then unplugged it and threw it across the room. She then tried to use the trackpad, but that didn’t appear to work either.
“Try turning it off and on again,” suggested Sunny.
Violoa slammed down the lid of the laptop and stood. “Get out,” she said, pointing to the door.
“I’ve come to give you some money.”
The woman glared for a long time, then sat, picked up the crisps and poured the last of the packet into her mouth. Once she’d chewed and swallowed, she asked, “How much?”
“How much did Carrie take?”
“$250,000”Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
Sunny dropped Atali’s pacifier on the floor, unaware she’d been holding it. “Jesus.”
Violoa frowned. Using the Lord’s name in vain was worse than swearing.
“She took it all?”
Violoa nodded.
“Why was there so much in the UVR account?”
“It wasn’t just refuge money. It was mine.”
Old suspicions reared in Sunny’s . Carrie said Violoa had been skimming for years.
“Don’t look like that,” said Violoa, disappointed. “You still think I stole it?”
“No.” Sunny knew she didn’t sound or look convinced. She tried again, louder. “No.”
“My husband was a financial advisor, and when he died, he left me a life insurance payout. The interest from that money paid most of the ‘bills’ around here.”
“You mean the bribes?”
“You don’t need to make it sound so dirty. Yes, I pay families money so they leave these kids alone. When I couldn’t pay anymore, they came and collected them. They’re worth more at home. Someone to kick around and do all the work.”
“Carrie said she—”
“Fuck Carrie. I never want to hear that name again.”
“Is that why the kids are in their rooms?”
“We can’t protect them here. There’s no gates; no fences. Anyone can just walk in whenever they want. Like you.”
“We need to make that happen.”
“I’m working on it. But I’ve still got to feed these kids in the meantime.”
“I want to help.”
“You mentioned a donation?”
“I can give you four thousand now. As soon as I get a job—”
Violoa gave an ugly laugh. “That’s why you’re here? You can’t get a job in this town because of me? Forget it.”
“I’m leaving for Australia in a few hours. I’ll get a job there. And I’ll tell everyone about this place and try and get you some more help. We need to get these kids safe. Fences, gates, security. If you were secure in here and parents couldn’t come take their kids whenever they wanted, you wouldn’t need to pay the bribes, right?”
“Yes and no. We’d need 24/7 security.”
“Okay. I hear you.” Sunny took out the cash in her handbag and gave it to Violoa. “I promise, I will get more.”
Violoa didn’t thank her or acknowledge the donation, other than a nod. She opened her laptop and began typing with two fingers. Sunny figured it was as close to forgiveness as she was ever going to get. She already felt better.
As she headed toward the door, Violoa called out, “If you really want to help…”
“Yes?”
“You’re going to Australia?”
“Yes?”
“If you’re going to see that man who made those diet pills, bring me back some.”
Sunny opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again.
It started to rain as she and Atali climbed into the taxi cab waiting to take them to the airport. She made a mental note to buy the pills and send them, because Violoa deserved whatever she wanted. She might be a harsh and obnoxious pain in the arse, but she was still making a difference.
Not all saints were angels.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Laurence threw his gym bag in the car and drove out of the car park as fast as the Hyundai would allow. He’d not realised how long he’d worked out and didn’t have enough time to shower. He could smell the stink under his arms whenever he swerved to miss a pot hole. The road to the airport seemed worse than usual and it rained voraciously for most of the trip. He needed both hands on the steering wheel, but managed with only one, so that he could check the flight details as he drove.
A truck passed him and he had to slam on the brakes to stop being run off the road. His phone beeped—a message from a colleague in Canada.
Major announcement here today re C2HO. Will call in an hour.
Something was brewing and he should be monitoring the news feeds now, instead of trying to impress Sunny with this grand surprise gesture.
He was too invested in this relationship—this one-way relationship. Doubts about this decision harassed him again. Should he have gone behind Sunny’s back? It’d been Karina’s idea. He’d just helped her make it a surprise. What if Sunny didn’t want to see her? Reading beautiful women had never been his strong point. Although she had said yesterday that Karina was the one person who could make her feel better. Did she mean it? There was every possibility he’d end up with two women unhappy rather than just one.
If he was completely honest, he’d encouraged Karina to come because he thought she’d help him convince Sunny to forget Mataio. Some rational best-friend-to-best-friend conversation was what Sunny needed. She wasn’t listening to him. Everyone could see Mataio was not good for her. Everyone but Sunny.
Laurence turned up the radio on a song he hadn’t heard in a while and pushed away his concerns. It
was too late now. He checked his phone again. Karina would have landed and was probably waiting for him. Customs only took a few minutes. Unless they lost her luggage—which wasn’t uncommon.
He pulled into the car park as the rain pelted harder. He ran from the car, across the road and through the arrivals door, keeping his head down and his collar up.
Once inside, he didn’t need to look far to find her. She was the only white woman standing alone with her bags. She was on her phone, her long brown hair partly covering her face. As she flicked it behind her ear, he approached.
“Hello. Karina?”
She looked up, a smile already on her lips. Laurence thought it might be the happiest smile he’d ever seen. “Laurence?”
“Yes.” He put out a hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for the invite.”
“How was your flight?”
“Long. Very long.”
The smile never left her face, not even to complain. “Let me get that.” He grabbed her suitcase and led her to the car. The rain didn’t seem to bother her.
“Does Sunny know? Is it still a secret?” she asked.
“She doesn’t know.” He didn’t mention he’d left the flat last night and hadn’t been back since.
“I don’t know. Maybe we should have told her? She hasn’t seen me in six years.”
“She misses you.”
“She called me yesterday as I was boarding my flight. I told her I couldn’t talk as I was going to Rome for a conference.”
Laurence laughed. “Fast thinking. You could have told her yourself.”
“Are you kidding? And ruin the surprise?” She grinned.
On the main road the rain continued to fall in huge drops. He had to concentrate on the road but was very conscious of the woman beside him. Sunny had described her as the girl everyone loves to love. He couldn’t imagine it at the time. That kind of person sounded too saccharine, but Karina seemed almost impossible to dislike. Gentle, sweet and beautiful. The perfect package. Obviously, her fiancé thought so. He’d put a ring on it big enough to see from Mars. Probably further.
“So, you met Sunny through work?” she asked.
She was being polite. Sunny must have told her he’d stalked her for an interview. “I needed her help. Now, I think she needs mine.”
“She told me about the refuge. It’s horrible for everyone.”
“She won’t get over it until she can pay it all back. Which will be never. She can’t even get a job.”
His phone rang and he glanced at it. “I’m sorry, it’s important. I have to take this.” He pulled the car over as far as he could off the road. He was unlikely to get fined for using the phone as he drove, but the combination of potholes and rain made it impossible to drive one-handed. “Sorry, no hands-free in this car.”
“You want me to drive?” Karina asked.
He answered the phone and said, “Hang on, Jarrod.”
To Karina he said, “Sure.”
“Of course.” She opened her door and ran through the rain to his side before he’d turned off the engine.
“Be careful. The road’s—”
Karina slammed on the accelerator and threw them both back into their seats, the wheels turning on the wet grass. The car slid back and forth and finally stabilised on the road. Laurence’s free hand grabbed the seat and held on as she careened around potholes at a speed only a rally driver would attempt. The wipers couldn’t keep up with the rain and Laurence wasn’t sure how she could see the road at all.
A voice called him and he remembered the phone. “Sorry Jarrod, go ahead.”
“Did you hear?” asked Jarrod.
“No, I’ve been… busy,” he said, as the car swerved around a fallen branch at Olympic speed. And I’m soon to be dead.
“The Norwegian government just announced it is pulling C2HO from supermarkets to be prescription only. Canada and Sweden followed straight after. The US and Australian governments are expected to commission an independent inquiry before following suit.”
“What was the justification?”
“Long term impacts on mental health and well-being of consumers.”
“Anything else?”
“No, but it’s a start. And it’s enough to get you the funding.”
“What?” Laurence yelled so loud that Karina looked at him. He pointed back at the road, but he barely noticed her erratic driving now. “Say that again?”
“Netflix Original. Set for release in twelve months.”
“Netflix? You’re kidding?”
“Contracts already sent. I’m getting them looked over now.”
“Any changes to the outline?”
“Some. But they’re all onboard with the five frameworks. Do you know what pushed them over the edge? The US weather people are predicting El Niño this year. So, you know what that’ll mean…”
Shit. Even though the offer validated his theory, it still scared him that his prediction might actually come true. “Were they the only offer?”
“No. One of five, but I thought if you got the Netflix—”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll take the Netflix offer. It just means… Jarrod, people are starting to notice.”
“You’re cutting out. I’ll send you the contracts. Bye.”
Laurence pumped his fist in the air and distracted Karina from the road again. He pointed and she swerved around a pothole just in time.
He let the relief of Jarrod’s news settle over him. He’d dropped the ball on this story for a while—distracted by Sunny and Atali—forgetting what he was actually trying to achieve. His mates wouldn’t recognise him—going soft over a woman. Before Sunny, staying in one place for more than a week was uncommon. Staying in one place for months was downright extraordinary. He hadn’t stopped in one place this long since he’d lived with his parents.
With Sunny, he’d felt his passion for work fade, and for the first time in his life, considered looking for another job. Let someone else save the world. He could serve coffee by day, spend weekends mowing the lawn and sleep with the warmth of the same woman beside him every night. To know where his home was. To have a routine. To have somewhere to wash and hang his clothes. He’d never wanted those things before now. Before Sunny.
“Are you going to tell me your good news?” asked Karina, her hands tight on the wheel, the rock on her finger gleaming.
“Huh?”
“You don’t strike me as the type to punch the air for no good reason.”
“You’ve organised me into a ‘type’ already, have you?” He hoped his grin softened the words.
“Pretty much. Nice guy, stubborn, kind to strangers.”
“You don’t know me at all.”
“The fist punch?”
He liked her obvious confidence. “My concept for a documentary has just been funded.”
“Congratulations. What’s it about?”
He squirmed in his seat. People didn’t always see things the way he did. He didn’t want Karina to dislike him before they’d even finished the car trip home. Her eyes would probably glaze over and she’d change the subject anyway. And yet, if he couldn’t convince one person, how could he convince the entire planet? He took a breath and went for it.
“It’s to support the theory that the new diet drug, C2HO, has the potential to decimate the planet and strip its resources in less than five years.”
“Holy shit. Whose theory?”
“Mine.”
“Wow.” She let it sink in a bit.
This was where others usually laughed, or looked at him as if he were a moron.
Karina did neither.
“So, you’re making a documentary? Tell me about it.”
Chapter Thirty
The rain stopped suddenly and the wipers squeaked on the dry windscreen. Karina turned them off and said, “You have my full attention.”
The car bounced into an unseen hole and thumped loudly.
“You sure about that?”
&n
bsp; “Well, except for the wet roads, the potholes, the driving and the jet lag.” She grinned. “Yes. Go for it.”
He’d been holding onto his theories so long he barely knew where to start.
“What do you eat?” he asked. “When there’s no consequence of weight gain.”
“Is this a trick question?”
“No.”
“Anything you want,” she said.
“You don’t just eat anything.. You can eat whatever you want and not gain weight—so you eat large amounts of it, right?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Does this drug really work, like they say?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“The planet can’t afford this drug.”
“In what way?”
“Let’s say—and this is a conservative number—one in ten people use it to control their weight. What do you think that’s going to do to our food supply chains? The world can’t produce enough food already for its population. When ten percent of the population starts eating two to three times more food, how are we going to keep up with demand?”
“I never really thought about it.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem. No-one’s thinks it will actually happen.”
“But you got a Netflix contract, so there must be others who think so, too.”
“Anyone who questions the impact of the drug is quickly silenced. The pharmaceuticals have deep pockets and are extremely motivated to make this drug a success.”
“Have they tried to keep you silent?”
He nodded. “But the tide is starting to turn. Today, three countries announced the drug will be prescription-only. Australia and the US are announcing an independent inquiry.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Yes. But it’s centred around doctors’ concerns, not environmental.”
“What are the doctors’ concerns? I thought this drug was safe?”
