by Janet Woods
‘Go where?’ Full to the brim with baked beans and toast, Ellie was contemplating how she could remove the mud from her two most expensive outfits without ruining them.
‘First we’ll get your car, then we’ll go after my van.’
‘Can’t it wait?’
His eyes darkened. ‘No. All I own is in that van.’
‘You can’t own much.’
She hadn’t meant to sound so perverse.
‘I used to own much more, before ...’ He seemed to make an effort to control the anger that came into his eyes.
‘Before what?’ Intently she gazed back at him. Was this something to do with Todd’s mother?
‘Before someone decided to relieve me of what I’ve worked for all my life.’ His bitterness turned into a personal attack. ‘Someone like you wouldn’t understand that.’
‘Try me.’
‘Look at you.’ His eyes did just that. Ellie wanted to curl up and die at the derision in them. ‘Everything about you screams class. Look at that ring you wear. Did you ever consider suckers like me have to work their butts off to provide it all.’
* * * *
Patrick was being unfair. The fact that she’d grown up in comparative luxury had nothing to do with anything. Sure she had good clothes. She’d learned that a couple of good outfits when mixed and matched were more economical and stylish than several cheaper ones.
Most of her clothes were bought from a recycling boutique run by her house-mate. Anne specialized in designer garments, knew her taste, and brought home any likely garment that came into the shop. These Ellie altered in some way. It wasn’t often she indulged in something new. Her smoky purple Liz Davenport had been an exception. Ellie had practically starved for a fortnight to pay for it.
‘Since when have you provided my clothes?’ Blazing with anger at the implied slight she shot to her feet. ‘Anyone would think you’re the only one who works around here. If someone relieved you of your money whose fault is that?’
‘Mine I guess.’ Patrick’s hand thumped on the table, making the crockery rattle. He looked totally frustrated as he gazed, tight-lipped across the table. ‘I started to get big ideas and came a cropper. That’s what comes of associating with the moneyed pack.’
‘So you’re a capitalist at heart.’ She smiled at the surprise in his eyes. ‘Tell me about it.’ She didn’t really want to know, and didn’t expect an answer. It was her turn to be surprised.
‘I took a contract to redecorate a couple of high-rise buildings in Melbourne and hired a team. The company that owned it went bust just as we finished. I never got paid.’
‘Oh.’ She thought about it for a moment. ‘Did you apply to the auditor assigned to the company for payment?’
‘Of course.’
Exasperated by the ensuing silence she drummed her fingers on the table. ‘What happened?’
‘They intimated I was a small fish in a big pond, and would be advised in due course.’ He sounded angry rather than self-pitying which was a point in his favor.
An element of sympathy crept into her voice. ‘These things take time. Did you lose much?’
‘Not by your standards.’
Why did he have to make everything so personal? Her only investment was her trust fund. Although it was sizable she intended to keep it safely invested. She might just need it one day.
‘I had to sell my home to pay my crew off. My capital just covered the bank loan. I was left with the caravan to live in, and the truck.’
‘You and Todd live in the caravan?’
‘Isn’t that what I just said?’
They were staring at each other across the table when he suddenly smiled. Two fascinating dimples appeared in his cheeks. His face was rather interesting up close if one disregarded the battle scars he’d collected of late. The little dent on his otherwise straight nose was an old scar.
She touched it gently with her finger. ‘How did you get that?’
‘A magpie.’
‘A magpie?’ She couldn’t keep the laughter from her eyes as she remembered her flight of fancy regarding his disposal earlier on.
‘I was after its egg.’ Patrick laughed and Ellie found herself laughing with him. ‘That damned magpie never forgot. It swooped me for years afterwards.’
‘Did it ever get you again?’
His glance dropped to her mouth. ‘Once. Right in the middle of my lip.’ His finger found her bottom lip and caressed it. ‘I was fifteen then, in love with the most popular girl in my class. She dropped me when I couldn’t kiss her.’
‘Poor you,’ she murmured, her mouth becoming dry.
‘She had lips like yours.’ His voice had a husky sound. ‘Sort of crumpled on the bottom and curvy on the top.’ Ellie shivered as his fingers ran along her bottom lip. ‘I always wanted to kiss the crumpled bit.’
If he was going to kiss her crumpled bit he’d better hurry up. Todd was tugging at the leg of her jeans and she knew exactly what he was after.
‘May I have a biscuit please, Ellie?’
The glimmer of passion in Patrick’s eyes faded to regret, then an awareness of what had been about to happen. Casually he straightened. ‘Bring the biscuit tin along. It will keep him busy whilst we get your expensive toy back on the road.’
* * * *
Ellie’s car wasn’t as badly damaged as she’d first feared. The bent wing and broken windscreen were repairable. She drove it into the garage when they got back to the house, then transferred herself to the waiting Rover.
The rain had been replaced by a stiff breeze that whipped the branches of the eucalyptus into a frenzy. It brought a peculiar smell of rotting vegetation to her nostrils.
Patrick stared up at the ragged streamers of clouds when they reached the creek. ‘If the rain holds off the creek should be passable in a couple of days. It’s already dropped a bit.’
‘How are you going to get the caravan out?’
Still upright, its windows lapped by water, the van had been carried across the creek and wedged against a tree.
‘I’m going to swim across and attached this chain, then use a block and tackle tied to a tree and winch it across.’
He was mad! ‘You’ll sink if you try and swim with that chain.’
The look her gave her was withering. ‘I’m using a rope. When I’m across I’ll pull the chain over. Keep your eye on Todd. He hasn’t learned to swim yet.’ Patrick stripped down to a pair of snug fitting black underpants. He shivered slightly. ‘Here goes, let’s hope I don’t encounter any snags.’
Ellie held her breath as he waded into the fast flowing creek. She needn’t have worried. After one breath-taking moment when the van drifted sideways and Ellie thought it might turn over, the whole operation ran like clockwork. It emerged from the creek like a sinking ship in reverse, with water pouring out from under the door and windows.
‘Wow!’ Overwhelmed by the whole event Todd turned to her with an excited smile on his face. ‘That was great. Now I can have my leggo and bike to play with.’
‘I’m afraid your bike was on the truck, mate.’
Ellie’s eyes followed Patrick’s when he glanced downstream. ‘Perhaps we’ll be able to find it when the creek’s dropped.’
There was a disturbance in the middle of the creek about fifty yards from where they stood. Ellie’s eyes strained to compete with the light and shadow. There were actually four disturbances. She pointed them out. ‘I think that might be the truck.’
Together they set off down the bank. The disturbances turned out to be water diverting around the barely exposed tires.
‘It’s upside-down.’ Patrick shrugged as he hoisted Todd to his shoulders and tuned back towards the car. ‘Let’s go. There’s nothing we can do about it now.’
Noting the despondency in his voice, Ellie realized the value of the assets to Patrick. By his own admission he’d lost everything, first his house and savings, and now his caravan and truck.
But he couldn’t be mo
re than thirty, she thought, watching his long limbs stride through the undergrowth. He’d built up his business once. He could do it again.
Not like her father. She’d been a late and unexpected child for him. The complications surrounding her birth had caused her mother to die shortly afterwards. Her father had outlived her mother by twenty-four years. Although he’d never admitted it, Ellie knew he’d gradually lost his grip on the company in that time. He’d left the investment side to up-and-coming young men like David Lessingham. She was glad her father hadn’t lived to witness David’s betrayal.
For herself there had been a certain freedom in the winding up of her father’s company. Fortified by her own independence she’d absorbed the dangerous roller coaster of blow after blow. She’d been relieved that the responsibility of the company had not been placed on her shoulders. It took a certain type of person to run a business, and it was something she wasn’t equipped to handle.
Patrick had the guts to do it.
‘You’re not going to lay down and die are you?’
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud until she was the recipient of a ferocious scowl. ‘What do you think?’
Ellie smiled to herself as she climbed into the Rover and observed the stubborn set to Patrick’s profile. No ... he wasn’t the type to take a licking. She sensed him watching her watch him, and flicked her eyes to the driving mirror. The smile he suddenly gave her was devastating. A thunderous rush of adrenaline set her heart pounding and salted her tongue. Patrick was a dangerous man, and she thrived on danger.
‘You have a sneaky habit of prodding me where it hurts.’
She made her eyes all round and innocent, her voice sugary sweet. ‘It’s what’s called a reciprocal arrangement.’
‘I see.’ He choked back a laugh as he started the engine. ‘A love affair with you should prove to be interesting.’
Did he think she was stupid to fall for such an opener? Love affairs were dangerous unless conducted in a completely clinical manner. Never involve the heart. David Lessingham had informed her of that when the crunch had come. Although Ellie had been crushed at the time, once she’d thought it through, she’d felt relief at his fastidious precautions. David would have married her only to get the company. She’d had a lucky escape.
Ellie still wanted the security of marriage, but her sights were set on Patrick’s brother now. Even the hint of an affair with Patrick would render that impossible. Andrew had struck her as being slightly old-fashioned, a bit like her father had been.
‘You’ll never get the chance to find out.’ Ignoring his chuckle, she turned and stared out of the window for the rest of the way home.
* * * *
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Littered with everything portable from the van, the garden resembled a jumble sale.
‘If you want to make yourself useful you can put my clothes through the wash.’ Patrick attached the hose to the tap, attached himself to the other end and disappeared into the interior of the van.
‘Yes, master,’ she breathed.
His head reappeared in the doorway. ‘Turn the tap on. I forgot.’
‘Yes, master.’ This time she made sure Patrick heard.
‘Sarcasm is a very unfeminine trait, Eloise.’ A sliver of a smile stretched his lips when she touched her forelock before bending to do his bidding. The significance of it hit her in the seat of the pants when she flicked on the tap.
‘Sorry.’ He aimed the nozzle of the hose away from her and chuckled when she turned and glared at him. ‘I was distracted by the view.’
Ellie managed to stop herself from going into the attack. Hadn’t she admired his rear view a couple of times? Did it matter if he expressed his appreciation of hers out loud, whereas she admired his in secret?
That was a difference between men and women. Women fantasized, men acted on their fantasies. She suspected if women told their fantasies to their partners, they’d experience a more exciting and fulfilling relationship.
The fantasy of using Patrick as a slave to her passion was an interesting notion. Laughing inside, she gathered up his soggy clothes and headed for the laundry. From what she’d seen he was certainly equipped for the job.
‘That’s terrific, Todd.’ Ellie put her fantasy on hold and stopped to admire the leggo house Todd was working on. ‘You’re pretty good at that.’
Todd didn’t even bother to feign modesty. ‘I’m going to be a builder when I grow up. Just like Patch.’
‘I thought your dad painted houses.’
‘That’s ‘cause the business went bust.’ Todd frowned as he carefully set a window into place. ‘One day me and Patch are going to build our own house.’ Gazing up at her he smiled. ‘You can come and live in it if you like.’
‘Thank you, Todd.’ Ellie dropped a light kiss on the child’s head before continuing through to the laundry. She could imagine the welcome she’d get from Patrick if she turned up on the doorstep with her luggage.
The afternoon flew by in a frenzy of washing. The garments dried swiftly in the blustery wind. Ellie had just whittled it down to a pile of jeans when Patrick returned to the house.
‘Is there any tea brewing?’
‘Finished already?’ Surprised, she gazed at the clock. ‘I didn’t realize it was so late.’
‘It’s almost dusk.’ He watched her fill the kettle. ‘I’ll start on dinner in a minute.’
‘I’ll do it if you like,’ she said reluctantly. She should have started earlier. ‘I think there’s some sausages in the freezer and there’s baked beans left over from lunch.’
Patrick tossed her a frown. ‘Frozen sausages aren’t much good, and I ate enough beans at lunchtime to last me for life.’ He opened the larder door and stared into the interior. ‘We can have salmon patties, peas, tomatoes and chips.’
‘That sounds simple.’ Joining him at the larder door Ellie gazed inside. ‘Where are the salmon patties?’
Patrick’s eyes rolled and his fingers drummed a tattoo on the door. ‘You make them.’
‘Oh.’ She thought for a moment, then gazed at him helplessly. ‘I’m not very good at pastry.’
Ellie didn’t know whether the snort Patrick gave was amusement or derision. His eyes gave nothing away. ‘They don’t have pastry.’
‘I’ve got some frozen dinners,’ she suggested.
‘I’ve seen them.’ Realization came into his eyes, and with it, condemnation. ‘Just what I need,’ he drawled. ‘A woman who can’t cook anything apart from baked beans.’
‘If I’d known you were going to be a house guest I’d have enrolled in a cordon bleu course.’ He’d discovered her Achilles heel, and she just knew he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to make mileage out of it.
Her sarcasm brought a tight smile to his lips. ‘Cordon bleu? That’s not much use to a hungry man.’ His voice became pitying. ‘It doesn’t take much imagination to realize how limiting your life-style has been if you never learned to cook for yourself.’
‘That’s because your imagination itself is limited,’ she snapped. Her blood had reached boiling point. ‘Your reference to the life I apparently live is based on ignorance, as is your presumption that I’m useless.’
‘Anything else?’ The quietly dangerous voice warned her he was at his limit. Ellie wondered how much it would take to push him over the edge.
‘Yes.’ Stubbornly she stood her ground. ‘You’ve got a giant-sized chip on your shoulder, Patrick Morgan. You’d be better off without it.’
Had Patrick sprung on her body and mauled her with his teeth Ellie wouldn’t have been surprised. He was tensed like a coiled spring, his jaw rigid, his eyes molten metal. The heat from his skin was a volatile wave that rose from taut muscles and filled the confined space they shared. Todd’s piping voice was a faint echo on the periphery of his anger, like a kitten clamoring to come in from the cold.
Ellie couldn’t tear her eyes away from Patrick. She daren’t. He was poised to strike like
a snake. Deep in his eyes she saw her image, like a trapped mouse. The image trembled as he took a deep steadying breath. He closed his eyes as if in torment, releasing her,
‘Ellie?’ A small hand tugged at her sleeve with some urgency. ‘There’s water coming in under the door.’
Patrick’s eyes snapped open, his face assumed its usual sardonic expression. Insight told Ellie he wore it as a defence. ‘You seem to be flooding the house.’
Patrick?’ She gently touched his arm, wished she could do something to help him come to terms with his anger.
He shrugged away from her touch. ‘I’ll cook dinner. Go and do something about the flood before we all drown.’
Damn the man! Wasn’t there any softness in him at all? Turning her back on him she scurried into the laundry and surveyed the mess. This was all she needed - a blocked sink. She switched off the machine and placed a towel across the doorway to prevent any more water seeping through. Opening the cupboard where her aunt kept the tools she selected what she needed.
Ten minutes later she’d cleared a wad of paper from the U bend, and was just about to tighten the stopper when Patrick’s face appeared in her line of vision.
‘You should have asked me to do that.’
Why should she - because he was a man? Did he think because she was female she was helpless? Starting to simmer again she picked up the hammer and whacked at the lever she’d placed across the stopper. Immediately her temper improved.
‘It’s done, thank you.’
‘You’ve forgotten to replace the washer.’
A dictionary of swear words flashed through her mind. Snatching the washer from his outstretched hand she clamped her teeth together in frustration and banged the lever in the other direction. ‘Damn!’ she muttered. ‘I’ve cross threaded the thing.’ Why was she all fingers and thumbs when Patrick was around?
Patrick slid under the sink beside her. The sink was set in an extra large cupboard, but Patrick’s presence turned them into instant sardines.
‘What are you doing?’ The frosty glance she gave him was negated when her nose collided with the tip of his and he laughed. ‘What was so funny about that?’ She made a conscious effort not to laugh herself. ‘Stop stirring me. Get out of my cupboard this instant.’
