The Boys of Summer

by C. J. Duggan

  A brick BBQ and vine-covered gazebo sat in the corner and was a nice space, even though the area needed a desperate blower-vac. Today was slow and calm with Chris covering in the bar, while Uncle Eric led me out to his refuge at an umbrella-decked table with his coffee in hand.

  The day was warming up, but I wasn’t sure if it was truly hot or if it was my nerves that made me flush as I took a chair opposite Uncle Eric.

  “You enjoy working here, Tess?” He tapped a cigarette from his pack.

  I gave it a brief thought; I guess I did, now that I thought of it. I was both pleased and surprised by this revelation. I seemed to have found my feet now, even knew what I was doing … kind of.

  But why was he asking? I squirmed in my seat. Maybe I wasn’t doing as well as I thought; maybe Chris had reported back one of my earlier calamities.

  “Relax, Tess,” Uncle Eric chuckled. “Don’t look so worried. I hope you enjoy working here, you’ve been a real asset to our staff.”

  My shoulders slumped with relief.

  “Thanks, I really do like working here. It was a bit hard in the beginning when I was trying to get my head around things, but I like to think I’m not making too many mistakes.”

  “You can’t learn if you don’t make mistakes.” He flicked his ash in the ashtray. “You seem to fit in very well.”

  I smiled. It was nice to hear these things.

  “You seem to get along well with Chris’s friends.”

  My smile slipped a little. “Yeah, they’ve been really nice to me.”

  He took a deep drag of his cigarette. “They’re good boys.”

  His gaze then flicked to mine. “Sean Murphy is a particular fan of yours, I hear.”

  My smile was all but gone, and I could feel the colour drain from my face.

  Flicking another ash, he sighed. “There’s not much that gets past me, Tess, there isn’t much a publican isn’t privy to. Though I don’t tend to listen to much idle gossip, when something concerns me, I listen. I’m not going to give you a fatherly lecture, or pull the boss card on you, Tess. I just want you to be careful. I know that this is your first job and it’s all new and exciting. But these boys, these young men,” he corrected, “however nice they may be, well, they’ll have different expectations compared to the high school boys you’re accustomed to. They won’t settle for hand holding for long, and I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything you may regret. Not on my watch.”

  “You don’t have to worry, Uncle Eric, we’re just friends. It’s not like that.”

  “I see the way you and Ellie look at the boys. I don’t expect you all to be saints, I just don’t want to see anyone hurt, or do something they’ll regret. You’re a good girl, Tess. I wouldn’t want anyone to take advantage of that.”

  I’m sure in years to come I would look back at this and be grateful for his concern, but right at that very instant I was looking for the closest way to escape. He must have sensed my unease because he allowed me a reprieve.

  “So I’ll see you back here at six, then?”

  I nodded with my best ‘nothing weird just happened’ smile.

  “Thanks, Uncle Eric, see you later.”

  I shot to my feet and as I was nearly home free, he said, “Tess?”

  I paused, cautiously turning at my name.

  “If you need to speak about anything, me or Claire are always happy to listen.”

  I wanted to die.

  There was a certain amount of discomfort from having your boss assume you were having sex when you weren’t actually having sex. Now every time Uncle Eric looked at me, I knew that was somewhere in his head, and that idea freaked me out. The only thing that would get me through the evening shift was the fact that Uncle Eric retired early, otherwise it would have been Mission Avoid Uncle Eric’s Knowing Eyes.

  I entered the poolroom like a zombie, perching on a bar stool next to Ellie.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Oh, nothing. I’m just tired. I might head home, catch up on some sleep before tonight.”

  After all the buildup and enthusiasm for knocking off to hang with the Onslow Boys, all of a sudden I didn’t want to be anywhere near them. If that was what Uncle Eric was thinking, what would others be? When Sean had defended me against Scott, I thought it was heroic, awe inspiring; to be honest, a bit of a joke. But now the news had travelled and to, of all people, my boss, it somehow didn’t seem so funny anymore. I felt ill.

  As a group of tourists flooded the poolroom, I took the opportunity to sneak away. I didn’t even speak to Toby or the boys. Ellie said she wanted to stay a bit longer, her nervous gaze constantly flitting to Stan. I nodded, distracted, as Uncle Eric’s mortifying words repeated through my mind.

  ***

  Walking through the front bar as I started the evening shift, my gaze instinctively turned towards the poolroom. Surprisingly, I spotted Sean, alone at the bar. He wasn’t often on his own so I jumped at the opportunity to give him the heads up on what was going around.

  I hadn’t anticipated how hilarious he’d find it. Sean’s entire body convulsed in spasmodic fits of thigh-slapping laughter.

  I glared at him.

  He wiped away tears and fought to catch his breath. Chris walked through from the main bar, casting a curious gaze from Sean to me.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I think I’m to expect a heart to heart with your uncle soon, Chris.” Sean saluted him with his beer. “I can’t wait.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re seriously demented, you know that, right?”

  “Maybe we should get Unc to chaperone us like in the olden days, he could walk ten paces behind us while we take a turn in the garden.”

  He was loving every minute of this.

  “Or better yet …” I leaned closer. “My dad can escort you to a shallow grave in the Perry Ranges, because if he finds out, that is going to be a far more probable outcome.”

  “If who finds out what?” Stan said, as he and Toby walked through the poolroom door.

  My heart leapt at the sight of them. I hadn’t even heard the door open. Stan was in his usual good humour, but Toby looked between Sean and me in guarded silence.

  It made me uneasy; aside from the small exchange this afternoon over the beer nuts, we hadn’t spoken at all since the ranges. Now there was not so much as a hello; he didn’t say it, so I didn’t say it.

  Since Sean had been alone in the bar, I’d figured Toby must have had better things to do tonight. But here he was, flicking his wallet out of his back pocket and ordering a beer, looking better than ever. Tonight he’d opted for jeans and a Pink Floyd T-shirt under an open black and white checked shirt; his hair was still damp from the shower and glistening from a little carefree product application. It probably took him only seconds to arrange it into its gorgeously disheveled state. It was sexy. He walked behind me to settle on a stool, and the fragrance of his aftershave made me want to press closer, but I had to control myself. Even if I did want to squeal and jump up and down clapping like a wind-up monkey with brass symbols for hands.

  “Oh nothing, just some trouble in paradise.” Sean winked and gave me a wicked smile.

  It was nice that he found it all so amusing, but I’d been serious about my dad not being happy. I didn’t even dare let on that I was spending most of my days with a group of men (though young ones). There was no way he or Mum would approve.

  I shrugged and gathered the last of the empty pots and pints on my way to the kitchen.

  “It’s your funeral.”

  I gave Toby a wide berth as I headed back to the kitchen. Though I was over the moon to see him, I didn’t want him to think that he was in any way obligated to take me home after work. This spur-of-the-moment bet was starting to seriously backfire, and I wished that I’d never made it, or at best that I’d let him win. I would have made him his damn pies and that would have been the end of it. Maybe now he’d be greeting me with a smile instead of this weird sile
nce. I may not have acknowledged him, but it’s not like he acknowledged me. Ha!

  Geez. And I was critical of Ellie’s mind games. Could it be that I was playing my own? Either way, I’d told myself on the way back up Coronary Hill this afternoon that the next time I saw Toby Morrison I would play it cool, and that was exactly what I’d done. I just didn’t expect him to do it, too, and so well.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tonight Onslow hosted its famous annual Summer Show.

  There were food stalls that sold hotdogs, fairy floss, kebabs and Danish pancakes; there were craft stalls with handmade jewelry, tie-dye clothing and knitted blankets and toys that smelt like lavender and old ladies. Come midnight, fireworks filled the night sky, casting a glorious reflection over Lake Onslow.

  Everyone in Onslow and the surrounding regions flocked to these events. It broke the monotony of daily life in these sleepy towns, and got everyone together. For me, it had mostly been worth going because every year I had been guaranteed to spot Toby.

  This year, I’d hoped it would be different, that I wouldn’t be mooning over Toby from a distance.

  Ellie and I didn’t even manage to break out a sweat in the evening shift, only a handful of meals for the regulars and a few touristy blow-ins for drinks. Yet with so little to do, I hadn’t even noticed the bar empty out. Without even a goodbye, the Onslow Boys were gone. So much for me not caring. Chris didn’t seem to care about missing out on the show. I suppose he wasn’t exactly a show bag kind of guy. Still, I would have thought he would at least want to hang out with his friends.

  I did my best not to openly whine about my reluctance to be at work. I didn’t want to be that girl, but being next to Ellie’s increasingly enthusiastic nature (it seemed things were back on track and she’d made amends when I slipped out between shifts) tended to drag me down further. I delivered a meal to a couple enjoying the sunset on an outside table. My heart ached as I could hear the distant beat of music, laughter and screams from the show. It taunted me. I had never missed a Summer Show. Ever. Sadly, there was a first time for everything.

  I had just hoped it wouldn’t have been this summer. So far, my holidays had wildly exceeded all my low, low expectations, not to mention confused me more than ever. And now I was angry, angry at being stuck here, angry at Ellie’s happiness, at Toby for the effect he had on me.

  I would be stuck working until midnight, probably witnessing the fireworks on the front porch of the Onslow (if I was lucky), in my smoke-infused work clothes. Ellie was miffed about it, too, but was pacified by checking her mobile every possible chance behind the staff room door. She would smile and giggle and sigh with every incoming message. Stan.

  Ellie would no doubt meet up with him after work, he would come and pick her up, and hopefully offer to take me home so I could go to bed and dream about the things that were a joke to think I could have.

  By eleven I was wiping down the last of the kitchen benches; I wasn’t able to hear the distant screams from the show, which I was happy about. I was about to throw myself in the fires of hell when I took it upon myself to grab a bucket and dust pan and clean out the open fireplace in the front bar. I moved the fireguard and was about to get on all fours when a voice startled me.

  “We have a cleaner that does that.”

  Chris leaned against the bar, his arms crossed, gaze transfixed on the mute TV. Was he watching Grease?

  “Well I wish you had’ve told me that when I was scrubbing the kitchen floor.”

  Chris shrugged. “She’s no spring chicken, you did her a favour.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think this fireplace has been cleaned out since 1974.”

  “You can do it if you want, I just thought you’d have preferred to head down to the show.”

  I froze mid-sweep, studying his emotionless face as he watched Olivia Newton John sing ‘Hopelessly devoted to you’.

  “Oh, um, does that mean that …”

  He sighed. “Knock off, Tess, it’s dead tonight. Go and enjoy yourself.”

  “Ellie, too?” I all but squealed.

  “Do you honestly think I could stop her? Go!”

  I returned the fireguard quick smart, doubling back to the kitchen to dump the cleaning supplies. Ellie was sitting on the kitchen bench with her mobile when I burst through the door.

  “Think you can get us a lift?”

  My mood had lifted (as any person’s would for early release on their sentence for good behaviour).

  The show turnout was huge, bigger than last year. I had felt the giddiness of what it was like to go to the show, but this year it wasn’t for show bags, water fights, or rides. This year I just wanted to hang out with fun people. The very people we now pulled up next to. Stan parked next to a huge convoy of utes and cars lined up along the edge of trees opposite the main strip. It looked like a Show and Shine inspection except the cars weren’t anything special and just had a bunch of people hanging out, like they did every year. I remembered always looking over at the older crowd that lurked along this strip and thinking, wow! They were out of school, had jobs, drove cars and were so cool. Now here I was, climbing out of Stan’s Hilux, about to infiltrate the gang.

  “Well, look who finally made it.” Sean was perched on the edge of a ute; everyone turned to witness our arrival. A sea of inquisitive eyes rested on us, but there were two sets in particular that made me wish I had been dropped off at home instead.

  Toby’s unreadable gaze and Angela’s murderous one.

  Angela was wrapped around Toby like one of those anacondas you see on the Discovery Channel. Seriously, she was going to give him a neck injury. I had to pretend like they weren’t there, that I had no interest in their presence. Yeah, that would be best.

  I, the third wheel, broke away from Ellie and Stan who had managed to not unlink their hands since exiting the car. I made my way over to prop myself next to Sean on the ute tray, the only friendly face I knew.

  “How was work?” He nudged me with his shoulder.

  “Dull and long.”

  “You missed me that much?” Sean grinned.

  Rolling my eyes, I said, “So what have all the cool kids been up to?”

  “Oh, you know, leaning on cars trying to look cool. It’s exhausting.”

  “I think the problem is that you’re just not doing the lean right?”

  He curved his brow at me. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, you have to give it more elbow action, perhaps the odd bobbing of the head to an imaginary beat.”

  “Like this?” He propped his elbow on the edge of the ute for the cool casual lean and then bobbed his head in an over-the-top fashion that made me giggle.

  I grimaced. “You look like you have a nervous tic.”

  “Ha! A cool nervous tic.” Our laughter broke off at the slamming of a car door. Toby’s car door.

  “Are we going to the Point?” Toby seemed impatient when he spoke. Snappy. Sean jumped off the tray and stretched, revealing a flash of muscled stomach in the dark.

  “Okey dokey.” Sean groaned mid-stretch.

  “Did you just say okey dokey? Is that the lingo for yesterday’s generation?” I teased.

  “Yesterday’s? Youch! So what should I be saying? ‘Like, whatever dude!’” He drew it out like an American surfer boy.

  “Now you just sound like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.” I shook my head, my legs swinging from the tray. The engine to Toby’s ute roared to life as he revved the accelerator an impatient two, three times.

  “Any day now, Murph.” Toby adjusted his mirror in agitation. Angela was busying herself by looking in the reflection of her side mirror, pouting and fixing her lip balm.

  Sean turned to me, offering me a hand off the edge of the tray. “We’re all heading up to the Point to watch the fireworks, you wanna come?”

  Stan broke away from nuzzling Ellie’s neck. “Best seats in the house.”

  “Okay, cool.”

  We all piled into Stan’s car, Sean i
n the front passenger seat, Ellie and I in the back. Half a dozen other cars followed as we left the Show behind and made our way out of Onslow, over McLean’s Bridge and up into the Perry Ranges. Toby’s car was directly behind ours and the last in the long line weaving up the hills. Our windows wound down, the hot summer night whipped through our hair. Stan navigated the turns like a rally driver, and I tried not to think of the increasing drop on my left as we climbed higher and higher. Instead, I kept turning to see if Toby’s headlights were visible; his car was close enough behind us for me to see their silhouettes but not close enough to make out faces. No doubt Angela was burning a hole in the back of my head.

  It was then I saw the flicker of Toby’s indicator. He turned into a side track, marked by a sign I couldn’t make out.

  “Oooh, looks like someone has their own fireworks in mind,” laughed Sean, looking in his side mirror.

  “Where are they going? Should we wait?”

  Stan peered into the review mirror. “They’re heading to the Falls.”

  My stomach plummeted. Everyone knew about the Falls. There was only one reason anyone went to the Falls of a night time, and it wasn’t to see the impressive waterfall that flowed into a series of natural pools. It was a parking hot spot. If you wanted to socialise, make out, watch fireworks, you went to the Point. If you wanted privacy, you went to the Falls.

  “I doubt they will be gracing us with their presence this evening,” Sean half laughed.

  “No wonder Toby seemed so toey,” added Stan.

  I stopped looking back; instead, I focused on the back of Sean’s seat.

  That was that, then. I convinced myself that it should be a relief. I didn’t have to waste my time with romantic fantasies, by analysing every look Toby gave me, every touch. That was that. The last nail in the coffin. Absolute closure.

  Ellie reached for my hand in the darkness and gave it a squeeze of silent support. It was then I felt the ache in my heart, the churning of my stomach. I breathed deeply to control the emotion that threatened to well. If this was a good thing, then why did it hurt so bad?