Three Words: A Novella Collection

by Dale, Lindy

  Chapter 3

  Behind the safety of her closed bedroom door, Daisy gulped deep breaths and tried to settle herself. Tears of annoyance or maybe realisation burst from her eyes and no matter what she did or thought of, they didn’t seem to want to stop. For a good five minutes she snivelled, snot running down her nose and mingling with her tears. Her cheeks became stained and red and her sleeve grew sticky where she’d wiped her nose on it because she hadn’t the energy to go three more steps to get a tissue from the cupboard. It was as if Henry had unlocked that big black bag of emotion and let her feelings out to go running around the farm, draining her body in the process.

  With a sniff and a snort she wiped her eyes and went into the ensuite. She had to get a grip. This was beyond ridiculous. Hawk Moon was sitting by her fire and all she could think about was her loser husband. Not that she wanted Jack to come back. The short conversation had made her face that fact. She was ready to move on. But she still felt raw, like sandpaper had been rubbed over her body.

  Stopping in front of the basin Daisy turned on the tap, leaning into it and splashing cold water onto her face. It was icy and made her cheeks tingle. She pulled a towel from the rack and dabbed the moisture away. Then she peered into the mirror, examining her face for any traces of her meltdown. That was better. A little. At least she didn’t look like a raspberry anymore. She couldn’t face Henry looking like something freshly picked from the veggie garden.

  A quiet knock at the door brought her to her senses.

  “Daisy? Are you okay?”

  Henry. Shit, she’d been in here for so long he must have thought she’d washed herself down the plughole. She attempted to brighten her voice. “Coming.”

  Straightening, she opened the door.

  “Is everything alright?” he asked.

  What a lovely man.

  “Yeah. Fine. It’s still painful, I guess.” She dabbed her eyes again. The tears clearly hadn’t finished. That familiar prickling was threatening.

  Henry took a step towards her. He rubbed a hand up and down her arm, soothing her. “Don’t cry. I hate it when people cry, unless they’ve just won lotto, of course.”

  Daisy sniffed, giving him a wet smile. It was so sweet of him to try and cheer her up but in reality it was only making things worse. She’d tried to be strong for so long and now she couldn’t do it anymore. She covered her hands with her face and wept.

  “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Shhh. Its okay. I understand.”

  Henry gathered her into his arms. If she’d thought about it she probably would have balked ~ he was a stranger after all, even if she did own every single CD he’d ever made ~ yet it felt like the place she was meant to be.

  After a minute or two, Daisy could feel the tension leaving her body and she relaxed a little, tentatively pressing her cheek to Henry’s chest. His heart was pounding awfully fast but it was the closeness of his body and the warmth in his arms she really noticed. She stood there for a minute considering how this felt. In all her life as an adult, the closest she’d come to being held by any man other than her husband was when she’d been groped by that sleazy Santa they’d hired for the Christmas Party at the Day Care Centre. And then she’d screamed so loud the centre’s pet budgie, Bluey, had flown into the roof of his cage with fright.

  But now, here in Henry’s arms she felt safer than she had in a very long time. Years, if she was being honest.

  “You okay now?” Henry asked, his deep voice suddenly very soft.

  “Much better. Thanks.”

  “Glad to be of assistance,” he replied, pulling away.

  If only she’d thought to say she was still upset, maybe he’d have held her for longer.

  Walking back to the lounge, Daisy picked up her glass and sat cross-legged on the sofa, curling her stripy-socked feet under her thin body. Henry, having retrieved his glass, came to sit down beside her. Even wearing Jack’s farm shirt and without the gelled up hair he looked devastatingly gorgeous ~ but not rock star-ish at all.

  “Tell me about your life. How did you come up with the name Hawk?”

  “It was my Mum. She said if I wanted to be a rock star I needed a cool name and she used to call me Hawk when I was a kid, after that U2 song Hawkmoon 269. It stuck I guess.”

  “And you like being a musician?”

  Henry twiddled his glass between his thumb and index finger. “It’s my life. I live for it. Though I could do without the paparazzi and the shit that goes with it. But you can’t have one without the other so I’ve learnt to deal.”

  “I imagine you deal quite well.”

  “I get by.” His mouth spread into the most amazing smile.

  Daisy swallowed. Talk about make you hyperventilate. “So apart from the screaming hoards of fans, what’s the best part?”

  “Ah, the screaming fans?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing beats being on stage and hearing forty thousand people singing the lyrics of a song you wrote back at you. It’s the ultimate validation that you chose the right career. And the feeling you get when you meet someone who says your song changed their life is awesome. It’s the reason why I keep going.”

  “It’d be easy to let that go to your head.”

  “Yeah. In the early days, I went in for the whole rock star thing - the sex, the drugs. But then I realised it was really about the music for me. The singing is my job. I try to make every performance count because I want to give back to the people who put me there. It’s a huge amount of pressure but if my music makes even one person happy, I feel fulfilled. The concerts are the icing on the cake.”

  Daisy was impressed. She’d never been to a Hawk Moon concert but she’d heard how amazing they were. Clearly, he wanted to make his fans happy. It wasn’t all about the money.

  “Do you have a family, Henry? You know, like a girlfriend or a wife?”

  Henry’s face closed over. He stared at the sleeping lamb by the fire and then looked at his watch, refusing to answer. From the look on his face, you’d think she’d asked him to eat rotten meat or something. Looked like she’d done it this time. She’d pissed off the rock star.

  “I had a wife,” he said, at last. “But the rock ‘n’ roll life isn’t for everyone. We separated. I still call her sometimes. She’s a good friend. She married again last year.”

  “Were you upset? You know, when it didn’t work out?”

  “A bit. Okay, well a lot really. But I’d never tell anyone. People like to see me as invincible.”

  His eyes welled up. It made Daisy want to cuddle him.

  “You just told me.”

  “Must be the night for sharing.”

  “Must be.”

  Henry put an index finger to his mouth, biting on the nail for a second. “You know, this is the most normal conversation I’ve had in ages. I like you, Daisy. You’re real. I don’t know a lot of people like that anymore.”

  Daisy could feel herself blushing.

  “And that makes you feel lonely?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes. But I fill my time with work and I drive to see new places.” He paused for a minute. “Like today.”

  On the hearth, Marsha stirred, giving a very tiny lamb-ish yawn. She stood; wobbling on her long gangly limbs and took a few steps across the room. Then she looked expectantly at Daisy. A soft brown ear flicked back and forward and she trotted happily to the front door.

  “I’m just going to pop her into the paddock out the back. You can come if you like,” Daisy said, hopping up and grabbing the torch.

  “Is that sheep toilet trained?” Henry shook his head in amazement.

  “I don’t think she’s smart enough to be toilet trained but she does let me know when she’s had enough inside time. She’s becoming quite independent.” She raced to the door, hoisting the lamb into her arms. “Back in a minute.”

  *****

  When Daisy returned, she found that Henry had well and
truly made himself at home. The kettle was on and he’d found the toaster and a loaf of bread. He was whistling with his back to her. It was one of his songs. She recognised it instantly.

  On hearing the door close, he turned around. “I don’t know about you but I’m starting to feel a bit drunk,” he said. “I can’t afford to have a hangover. They mess with my voice.”

  Daisy slid onto the kitchen stool putting her elbows on the bench so she could rest her chin. This night was getting weirder by the second. Nobody would ever believe her if she told them Hawk Moon had been ratting about in her pantry with the stale pasta.

  “And so you decided to help yourself to my cupboards, did you?” she smiled. “Boy, you rock stars really think you own the world.”

  “Some of us do. Hope you don’t mind but I started making tea and toast.”

  The smell of cooked toast wafted across the bench and Daisy realised that Henry was right. She was hungry and a little bit drunk too. In fact, her head had become quite fuzzy, especially after the trip out into the cold.

  “I’d love some toast. There’s homemade jam in the fridge, if you want that. I’ll have the raspberry.”

  “Geez, you country girls sure are bossy.”

  “Comes with the territory. I have to order a whole flock of sheep around and they rarely do as they’re told.”

  Henry walked over to the fridge door and opened it. He stood before it, undecided. “I’m spoilt for choice.”

  “Try the cold lamb. It’s yummy on hot buttered toast.”

  “Is it one of yours?” Henry asked.

  “Well, yes, but that’s the point of raising sheep. If it makes you feel any better I didn’t slaughter it personally. And our sheep have the best life ever. I wouldn’t mind being one of them, at times. ”

  Henry looked as if he was being asked to eat his grandmother. “Oh, what the hell. It’s no different from lamb from the butcher, I s’pose.”

  He took out the plastic container and flipped the lid, taking out a few slices and putting it on his toast.

  “On second thoughts, I’ll have the lamb too,” Daisy said.

  They sat munching in silence for a couple of minutes. The mill clock ticked on the wall and outside the wind had died down so that the farm was back to its usual quiet. It was very peaceful and neither of them seemed inclined to spoil it.

  “So… Henry….” Daisy said, at last. “Can I ask you something really forward? It’s a bit of a favour and I know it’s going to come over as all ‘groupie’ like, but I was talking to Avery on the phone while you were in the shower.”

  “And you want an autograph for your daughter?” He said it as if he’d heard it a thousand times before.

  “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Can I get a picture of us to send to her, too? She’s only thirteen. It’d make her day. And probably a few days after that.”

  “Sure.”

  Daisy reached along the kitchen bench and got her mobile. She plopped back down on her stool and scrolled through the apps looking for the camera.

  “We’ll probably need to get on the same side of the bench,” Henry commented, coming around the counter towards her, “Or we won’t both fit in the screen.”

  “Good point.”

  Henry stopped next to her and pulled out a stool. His knee and the bottom of his thigh pressed against hers. It was warm and firm. And so, well, nice. It had been a long time since she’d been in the general vicinity of a man’s thigh. Then Henry slung an arm around Daisy’s shoulder. She shifted at the feel of his hand. She knew he was only doing it for the picture but, ohhh, it felt soooo good. If only….

  Pushing that ridiculous thought into the recesses of her mind reserved for late night fantasies, Daisy stretched her arm out in front of them, facing the lens of the camera in their direction.

  “Say ‘cheese’.”

  “Cheese.”

  She pressed the red button, waiting for the click. Then, she turned the phone around to open the photo so they could see it. Fabulous. Seriously, she was so inept. Even Avery wouldn’t be able to salvage that horrendous photographic attempt.

  “I’ve cut off our heads.”

  Henry’s mouth tilted into a smile. “Somehow I think that sort of defeats the purpose of the photo. You’d better take it again. Move your face closer this time. That might help.”

  Daisy tried not to hyperventilate. If she moved an inch closer they’d be kissing. Henry put his arm around her again.

  “Ready? Smile!”

  As she said it, Henry planted a big kiss on her cheek. The phone fell into Daisy’s lap. Her toes began to tremble inside her stripy socks.

  “Oh. Oh. You kissed me.”

  “It’ll look better for the jealousy factor with your daughter’s friends. Yeah?”

  Daisy nodded. Of course, he was used to this fame thing. He knew how to work a crowd and what would make a group of teenage girls drool with envy more than Hawk Moon kissing someone they knew? It wasn’t as if he’d really meant it.

  “Yeah.”

  “So how do we look?”

  Daisy picked up the phone. She tapped the photo album and went into the stream. There, filling the screen was Henry’s side profile, his lips puckered to kiss her smiling face. She looked happier than she had in months. And he had a certain twinkle in his eye.

  “That’s pretty good, huh?” he commented.

  “Avery will love it. Thank you.”

  And at that very moment, there was another knock at the door.

  Chapter 4

  The girl called Georgia looked seriously pissed off when Daisy opened the door. Her oval shaped face was set into an annoyed sort of scowl that had her eyebrows so far down her brow they were almost a moustache. She may have loved Henry but she clearly wasn’t happy about having to traipse over the countryside in the middle of the night to pick him up. She looked Daisy over, stopping at her stripy socks.

  “Is Henry here?”

  No hello, no nothing. Boy, she really was cross.

  “Um, yeah. You must Georgia.”

  “Well, who else would I be? I’m sure you don’t get that many visitors out here in the sticks. I’ve been driving for freakin’ hours. Don’t you people believe in street names or numbers?”

  Right. Now would probably not be the time to tell her that the sign for the property had blown loose in the last storm and Daisy hadn’t had time to put it back up.

  “Come in,” Daisy said, opening the door wider. “Straight down the hall to the end.”

  Stiletto boots clicking madly, Georgia stepped in the doorway and strode past Daisy, practically knocking her flying and leaving a muddy trail on the timber floor as she went. Daisy followed along behind. Georgia was rather intimidating for someone who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall and her choice of black skinny jeans and a fitted leather button up jacket only made her more frightening. Daisy wouldn’t have been surprised if she had a whip stuffed inside it. Surely, this couldn’t be Henry’s girlfriend?

  Hands on her slim hips, Georgia stopped the kitchen doorway. A cloud of expensive perfume wafted around her and filled the small kitchen. As a rule, Daisy wasn’t one for perfume - possibly because she couldn’t afford it - and the scent of Georgia’s only confirmed her thought that she wouldn’t be buying any in the near future. It was hideous.

  “Henry,” Georgia said.

  Henry looked up. He’d been playing with something on Daisy’s phone. Embarrassed, he placed it back on the bench and stood. “Hey George. Thanks for coming to get me.”

  “Like I had a choice in the matter.” She looked him up and down with the same degree of annoyance she’d shown to Daisy. “What the hell are you wearing?”

  “These?” He indicated the checked shirt. “I had a bit of an accident with a sheep. Daisy washed my clothes. These are a few spares.”

  Georgia glared at Daisy as if she was convinced she’d been doing a whole lot more than washing Henry’s clothes.
<
br />   “Right. Well, can we get going please? It’s a long drive back to Margaret River and you have a sound check at ten plus the interview with the Rock Beat magazine. You promised you’d get a haircut before the show tomorrow too and I can see you haven’t done that.”

  Henry rolled his eyes at Daisy who tried not to smirk. This pint-sized whippet was a real nagger.

  Seeing their mutual mirth, Georgia turned on her heel and stomped back the way she had come, muttering under her breath, “Seriously. I don’t know why I bother sometimes. You are such an infant.”

  Henry gave an exaggerated grimace.

  After they heard the front door open and slam, Henry moved to the edge of the kitchen bench. “Guess it’s time to say goodbye. It’s been nice meeting you, Daisy.”

  “You too, Henry. And thanks for the photo.”

  He picked up his baseball cap and shoved it on his head. Then, changing his mind he took it off again. “You wouldn’t have a permanent marker would you?”

  “I have a teenage daughter. You’d be surprised at the useful crap I keep in my cupboards.”

  She bent, opening the bottom drawer in the bank and fishing out a black felt tip. “What do you want it for?”

  Henry scribbled his name, the date and a message on the brim of the cap and handed it to her. “I figure Avery’s friends are probably going to say you photo-shopped that picture of you and me. This should be enough proof to keep them quiet.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No. Thank you, Daisy.”

  He leant over and tenderly kissed her cheek. And then he was gone.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning it was Saturday and it was as if Henry had never happened. Well, almost. Daisy’s face was aching from the grin she couldn’t remove.

  Daisy got up and put on her old overalls, a warm jumper and a pair of work boots. She brushed her hair and plaited it to the side, pausing for a minute to ponder a hair that was mysteriously growing in a place it shouldn’t be. She plucked it out and decided on doing her eyebrows while she was at it, something she hadn’t done in months. Following along with the theme, she threw caution to the wind and smothered her face with the purifying mask Avery had bought her for Christmas. At the time, she’d wondered why she needed such a thing. Her skin was her best asset. Today it just seemed like the thing to do. After ten minutes, she sponged it off and stood back to check out the results. Her skin did seem to have developed a pinkness that wasn’t there yesterday and the bluish tinge under her eyes had disappeared. Deciding she liked the results, she finished them with a swipe of clear lipgloss and a curl of mascara. Maybe, subconsciously, she was hoping she might get another surprise visit. Or maybe Henry had reawakened the Daisy who’d been lost for the last few months. She had to admit, that whatever the reason, she certainly felt mighty chirpy.