by Simone Jaine
Once the dishwasher was on Cherie got out a sheet of paper from her bag and smoothed it on the bench.
“According to my master plan I think we should put the floor down first,” she said.
“What about the power cables?” Jem asked. “Wouldn’t it be easier to set up the lights and run the wires under the flooring?
“That’s true. Let’s do that first.”
“There are a lot of tables in the garage,” Jem commented. “Did Duh-boss decide to order something of everything because he couldn’t make a decision?”
“No. He and Mark decided that since we’re getting people out on a Saturday night we’d have to supply a three course dinner to make it worth our clients’ while to attend. Because they weren’t sure how many would actually show Mark thought it would be a good idea to invite extra people.”
“I can’t see that going horribly wrong, can you?” Jem asked. “What about the numbers for catering?”
Cherie snorted.
“Theirs is not to wonder why but make it so I want to die,” she misquoted. “Needless to say, it’ll be on my head if there isn’t enough food.”
Cherie turned the paper over to show Jem the final menu.
Jem read the selected menu in surprise then handed it back to Cherie.
“This looks rather diverse,” she observed politely.
“Duh-boss finally settled on most of what Mark suggested although the option of burritos was all Celeste’s idea.”
Celeste had been Nate’s secretary until their affair became public and Nate choose her over his second wife, Mandy. His decision had been made easier by the fact that Mandy had thrown all his clothes on the driveway and changed the locks on the house after finding out.
Celeste had immediately moved into Nate’s city penthouse and now spent her days being a kept woman which seemed to involve giving Nate tonics and spending as much of his money as she could.
Mandy had also once been Nate’s secretary, a fact Celeste was well aware of, so she was determined not to be replaced in the same fashion. She insisted that since Nate wasn’t in the office that often it would be better to give any work he wanted done to Cherie who was Martha’s executive assistant.
If that hadn’t been enough to get Cherie’s back up, Celeste took it upon herself to interfere with things at her whim, hence the burritos.
Jem and Cherie’s conversation was interrupted by Eben calling out “Nudey streaker!” from the top of the stairs.
A moment later Jeremy ran naked into the kitchen with his pyjamas tucked under one arm. Jem stopped him.
“What’s going on?”
“Uncle Eben’s trying to get me dressed,” said Jeremy.
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Cherie.
“He’s trying to stick my pyjama pants on my head. I’m too old for that stuff,” he said indignantly.
“Go and get dressed in the family room. Then upstairs to brush your teeth,” said Jem.
Jeremy left, his dignity somewhat assuaged.
“Never a dull moment here,” Cherie observed.
“You have no idea,” said Jem as she turned on the outdoor lights.
The patio by the family room immediately lit up and the white panels of the marquee brightened beside it.
“It looks like a giant meringue has gone splat in my sister’s garden,” Jem said.
“As long as it is a tasteful splat,” Cherie said as she picked up her coat and gloves from the barstool. “That’s all that matters.”
Jem left the room to retrieve her coat and returned wearing it and holding two torches in her gloved hands.
“Do you think we’ll see much of the inside of the marquee with them?” Cherie asked as she accepted a torch.
“We’ll find out in a minute,” Jem said.
The rain was steady as they slipped out the family room glass sliding door and hurried across the tiled patio towards the marquee opening.
“Great, we get to spend more time getting saturated,” Cherie muttered as Jem crouched to struggle with the knot in the cord holding the door flap together. “Haven’t these people heard of zips?”
Jem moved to one side so she wasn’t working in the shadows of the patio lights and managed to get the knot undone. She hurriedly unlaced the door flaps and as soon as the last eyelet was unthreaded they pushed their way in. The door flapped shut behind them and they flicked their torches on.
Cherie waved her torch around the interior of the tent.
“It’s a bit like the Tardis in here, much bigger inside than you’d think,” Cherie murmured.
Her torch beam lit up a puff of warm breath from Jem’s mouth.
“The Tardis in Antarctica,” she added.
Jem’s torch landed on something poking under the tent side.
“Jess’s Daphne bush,” Jem groaned as she squelched her way to the side of the tent and started poking the delicate branches back outside. “This is the first one she’s had that has lasted more than six months. Those guys should’ve taken more care.”
She trained her torch around the perimeter of the tent and was relieved to see no other plant casualties. Jem looked back at Cherie to see her walking through the wet grass without having her heels sink into the ground.
“How do you do that?” she asked, waving the torch over Cherie’s feet.
“This is nothing after learning to walk on water,” Cherie told her “but I wouldn’t mind borrowing some gumboots if there are some spare ones around.”
“Good idea,” Jem said, knowing she was unlikely to learn Cherie’s secret. “I know where Jess keeps them and we can bring out the lights, power cords and a ladder on the way back.”
It took them both to carry the ladder out the side garage door and around the house to the marquee, Cherie in Jess’s gumboots which fitted her nicely and Jem rattling around in Jase’s which were several sizes too big, making it awkward for her to walk in.
They soon found they couldn’t hold the ladder and the torches at the same time so Jem tucked her torch under her arm and Cherie did likewise. As they moved, the end of the torches angled upwards, highlighting their sides of their faces. The moment the marquee door flapped shut they weren’t completely in the dark but with the torches throwing their faces into stark contrasts of light and shadow, the dark would have been more comforting.
Outside, the trees rustled and creaked and the walls of the marquee rippled in the howling wind. Behind them the door flapped ominously. Jem almost wished one of the children required her presence to give her an excuse to head for the light and warmth.
Cherie was beginning to wish she hadn’t watched Zombie Apocalypse last night. The shrieking wind outside the dark tent made her think of the scene where the zombies attacked the survivor’s camp.
As she set her end of the ladder down, Jem’s torch fell and went out, leaving Cherie’s disembodied face the only visible object in the marquee.
“I can’t see anything Jem,” Cherie said a little nervously.
“Take the torch away from your eyes,” Jem suggested, her voice barely audible above the rain pelting the canvas.
There was a clunk as Cherie’s end of the ladder hit the ground.
Cherie’s torch abruptly lowered and she heard a wet sounding thump from somewhere in the tent. With the wind and rain outside it was difficult to determine the direction the sound came from.
“What was that sound? Where are you?” Cherie asked anxiously.
It was so dark that it would be easy for anyone to get inside and sneak up on them. Wasn’t it always on a dark and stormy night that axe-wielding maniacs came out to play?
“Jem?”
A low moan coming from nearby made Cherie irrationally think of zombies again and had her backing up reflexively.
“Jem, this isn’t funny,” Cherie said, her voice sounding a combination of cross and scared as she flicked the torchlight across the marquee walls, seeing no sign of her friend but hearing a further unsettling moan.
In a flash of lightning Cherie saw something out of the corner of her eye moving on the ground towards her.
She stepped back and a hair-raising screech curdled the air behind her.
Cherie dropped the torch and started screaming.
Chapter 11
Cherie’s screams died to a whimper as she saw the fallen torch spin around on the wet grass then raise itself in the air. Its beam swung across huge feet then crisscrossed muddy thighs before it was turned on her.
Do zombies need light or is it to see if I freeze like a possum in headlights?
Cherie briefly wondered how far she would get if she made a run for it.
“Cherie, are you okay?” the zombie asked in Jem’s voice.
“Jem?” she asked shakily.
“Yes, it’s me,” Jem confirmed, in a voice that was too amused for Cherie’s liking.
The torch flicked across what Cherie now realised were Jase’s large black gumboots then trailed up a muddy torso before illuminating Jem’s muddy face from her jaw line. Cherie’s relief that her friend hadn’t been eaten by zombies turned to annoyance.
“Why didn’t you answer me when I called your name?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“Because I tripped over the ladder in these stupid boots and had the wind knocked out of me,” Jem answered as she swept the beam towards the ladder in search of her torch.
Finding it, she picked it up and switched it back on. She handed back Cherie’s torch.
“Then what made that noise behind me?” Cherie asked.
They both turned their torches to where Cherie had been standing. Four bedraggled looking ginger paws stood within the limits of the light so they moved the torches upward, highlighting Drongo standing there angrily twitching his tail.
“I think I upset your sister’s cat,” Cherie said.
“He’ll get over it,” Jem said. “Whatever you do don’t mention f-o-o-d.”
Just then the marquee door flapped open. Cherie, still getting over her adrenaline rush jumped back in fright.
Eben entered the tent.
“Are you guys okay?” he asked. “Jeremy was convinced he heard someone scream.”
“Someone did but that was a few minutes ago,” Jem said. “What took you so long to get here?”
“Yeah,” Cherie said. “We could’ve been eaten by zombies in the time you took to turn up.”
Eben and Jem just looked at her.
“Just saying,” Cherie said, defensively.
“I had to put my shoes on,” Eben said.
Cherie swept the torch over his sneakers.
“Did you have to lace them?” she asked sweetly.
“No smart arse. I had to empty My Little Ponies out which had mysteriously got jammed inside.”
Jem covered her mouth with a muddy hand to muffle her laughter.
“Since you’re here could you help Cherie set up the lights while I get cleaned up?” she asked when she could speak in a level voice.
“Sure,” Eben replied easily then saw her clearly as she moved past the path of Cherie’s torch. “What happened to you?”
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t make it as Bigfoot,” Jem said and handed him the torch.
Jem came out a while later dressed in clean clothes topped with a jersey of Eben’s to find Cherie and Eben arguing.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“He won’t let me check the instruction sheet to make sure everything is connected in the right spots before turning the lights on,” Cherie said crossly.
“It’ll take too long,” Eben complained. “Besides, I’m a guy, doing this sort of thing is built into our DNA. What can go wrong turning on a few lights?”
“Far be it for me to argue with DNA,” Jem said dryly as she faced Cherie. “Just let him do it.”
“Go for it oh Y-chromosomed one,” Cherie said in exasperation and stood back.
Eben flicked the switch on the power board. All the lights briefly flashed on then there was a popping sound. The entire marquee was thrust into darkness as well as half the house.
In the darkness Cherie’s voice rang out clearly.
“Do I get to say I told you so?” she asked.
Fixing the fuse and reconfiguring where the lights were plugged in had taken longer than expected so it was almost midnight when they trudged back into the house. Despite the delay they had managed to lay the plywood flooring, place the gas heaters and transfer tables and stacks of chairs to the marquee before they felt too cold to continue. In favour of warming their numb fingers and chilled limbs they decided to leave the rest of the setting up until tomorrow.
“I think we have earned a piece of cake,” Jem said as she leaned against the kitchen bench while Eben switched on the kettle beside her.
“Good idea,” Cherie groaned as she rubbed the small of her back. “Is it just me getting old or does your back ache from carrying things around all night?”
“My back does ache,” Jem wearily agreed as she pulled out a mixing bowl and a sieve from a cupboard. “I guess it’s because we’re not used to manual labour.”
“Tonight should be worth a week of effort in the gym,” Cherie said as she lowered herself gingerly onto a bar stool.
“Listen to you two,” Eben said as he set up mugs for hot chocolate and coffee. “Anyone would think you’d been out building the pyramids.”
“As if we could be confused about that,” Jem countered as she borrowed the kettle to pour a little water into the bowl with sifted icing sugar, cocoa and butter. “It’s much warmer over there and you’d be wearing a loin cloth.”
“Sounds a good enough reason to move there to me,” Cherie laughed.
To Jem’s surprise, Eben reddened.
Not noticing, Cherie looked down at her stocking clad feet. “I wish I’d brought my ugg boots over to wear.”
Eben set a mug of coffee in front of her which Cherie gratefully wrapped her fingers around to warm them up. Jem made short work of icing what remained of the cake then cut three generous slices off, sat down beside Cherie and handed her a plate.
After making a token protest over the large size of the piece she received, Cherie polished it off in several bites between discussing what still needed to be done in preparation for the presentation while Eben stood on the opposite site of the breakfast bar and offered ideas when consulted.
Eventually they firmed their plans for the following day and finished their drinks. Nudging her empty mug away, Cherie looked at her watch and smothered a yawn.
“I’d better go on home as I want to go into work early and finish those brochures. I hope they don’t take too long to do,” Cherie said as she stuffed her feet back into her stilettos.
“You’ve just reminded me to email some stuff to Mark,”Jem said as she reluctantly stood up.
“What does he want?” asked Cherie as Jem walked her to the front door.
“Just some accounts he says he wants to work on,” Jem said and flicked on the outside lights as she opened the front door.
Rain sheeted down and they looked out in dismay.
“You could stay here the night,” Jem offered.
“No. I can’t let a distance of fewer than ten metres in the rain best me,” Cherie said and turned the collar of her rain coat up and decisively snapped open her umbrella which had been left on the porch. “See you tomorrow evening.”
“Bye,” said Jem.
She closed the door and watched through the window until Cherie had got in her car and backed down the drive before turning off the outside lights. Jem walked back to the kitchen to find that Eben had already cleared away their dishes and was no longer present. She backtracked to Jason’s office and wasn’t surprised to see Eben parked in front of two glowing computer screens with games of spider solitaire playing.
“I need to access my work computer but my laptop is painfully slow,” Jem said. “Do you think Jason would mind if I use one of his?”
Eben spun around in his seat.
“I know he wouldn’t mind at all,” he said.
“Which computer would you like me to use?”
It was a reasonable question seeing as there were five set up in the room.
Eben turned on the computer beside where he sat then took a stack of papers off a desk chair on the other side of the room. He rolled the chair to the desk beside him.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks. I haven’t used one of Jason’s computers before. Are there any passwords I should know?”
“I’ll take care of it for you,” said Eben and set up a log-in for her from one of the screens that had held a game of spider solitaire.
“I didn’t know you could do stuff like that,” Jem commented as she leaned back in her chair and waited.
“You’d be surprised at what I can do,” said Eben.
“I think you are right,” Jem agreed.
A minute or so later Jem had her log-in prompt.
“What’s my password?” she asked, rolling her chair back so she could see Eben better.
“JemlovesEben all as one word.”
“Why would you put that?”
“JemimalustsafterEben’sbody is too long and you might forget the apostrophe,” Eben deadpanned.
Jem laughed despite herself. “You’re very sure of yourself. Perhaps the password should be EbenlovesJem instead.”
“I’ll change it if you want,” Eben offered.
“No. JemlovesEben is fine. Who would ever guess that?” Jem said and rolled her chair forward to get more comfortable access to the keyboard.
“I’m in,” she announced soon after.
About an hour and a half later she stopped typing and pushed the chair away from the desk.
“I’m all done here,” she said. “I’m off to bed.”
Eben moved the final card to the bottom of a line and the whole suit disappeared with the king appearing at the bottom of the screen.
Congratulations, you won the game! announced the pop-up box.
Eben flicked off both screens.
