Long Hot Summer

by Victoria Purman

  When she was half an hour away, she texted Dylan.

  “I’m on the bus. Would you be able to pick me up in the city in 30 mins? Corner of Pulteney Street and Rundle Mall by the lanterns. Sorry to ask. Thanks xx”

  It took half a second for him to reply.

  “I’ll be there.”

  She tucked her phone back into her beach bag. She looked around at the other people on the bus and felt out of place in her brightly patterned sun dress and sandals. The bus ride gave her much needed time to think. When the bus stopped on Pulteney Street, she waited by the fast food joint on the corner, feeling angry and determined.

  As soon as Dylan had received the text message, he’d jumped into his car and headed west into the city, down the winding hills roads, covered with canopies of incongruous English oaks and elms, plane trees and gums. He didn’t see any of the lush greenery on the trip down. All he could think about was Hannie.

  Firstly, why the hell was she on a bus? While there was nothing wrong with public transport, didn’t she know he was here for her, waiting to help in any way he could? Didn’t she know he would drop everything for her? She was beautiful and sexy and fun and she had a way of making him laugh like he hadn’t laughed with a woman in a long time. Being a firefighter, he spent most of his days surrounded by guys. Sure, there were women firefighters in the service too, but the few there were worked on different shifts at different stations. So he hung out with the guys at work and his twin brother, Caleb, when he could, when they weren’t working conflicting shifts or Caleb wasn’t out being Caleb.

  He missed the company of women. How the smelled, how they thought, how they talked, and what they talked about.

  For a long time, after his relationship in Melbourne had disintegrated, he’d decided he was done with women. He’d told himself he didn’t need the drama, that they were too much work, that he didn’t have the energy to negotiate their moods and their demands. But that was all bullshit. He wanted all that with a woman just like every other straight man he knew. He wanted the drama and the moods and the demands and the fun and the laughter and, for fuck’s sake, he wanted the sex.

  Last night, he’d almost burst into flames with needing her.

  Hannie today, in her bathing suit, dripping wet, all curves and heat and sand and salt?

  He’d wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone else in his life.

  He’d hit the city and driven up Rundle Street, past the cafes and restaurants and cinemas and fashion stores, until he reached the corner of Pulteney and he turned, pulling up in the first available spot, in front of a Thai place. Hannie walked to the car and got in. She gave him a half smile and did up her seat belt.

  “Hey,” he said and reached out a hand. He touched her shoulder. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, tell her everything was going to be all right with Mandy, that he would make everything okay. He couldn’t, he didn’t have that power but, damn, he wanted to.

  He checked the rearview mirror and pulled into the traffic. He did a loop around the block and headed back east towards the hills.

  “I would have come to get you, you know, at the hospital. Just ask, Hannie. Anytime. I’d do anything for you.”

  She put a hand on his thigh as he drove, and he liked it when she left it there.

  “Thank you. I know you would have come back if I’d asked, but I needed time to think. Is Ted okay?”

  “Ted’s fine. When I left, he was asleep. Tell me about Mandy? Is she okay? What happened at the hospital?”

  Hannie stared out her side window of his car. It was along while before she answered him.

  “You were right. She has Parkinsons’s. She told Alice. And, of course, Alice blamed me, which I knew she would.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me,” Dylan said angrily.

  “I’ll tell you all about it later. Can we just go home?”

  He covered her hand, still on this thigh, with his. “Sure.” Dylan took Hannie home without another word.

  When they arrived back in Reynolds Ridge, Dylan bypassed the gravel road to Hannie’s place and looped around on the track up to the top of the ridge.

  She looked at him.

  “Ted’s at my place, Hannie. I thought you’d want him with you tonight.”

  In that moment, Hannie felt it. Dylan understood her. He didn’t assume she needed him to save her or tell her everything was going to be all right. She felt on the verge of something good and real with him.

  But it would have to wait.

  “Thanks, Dylan.” She needed to process what had happened at the hospital. She needed to know that her Aunt Mandy was okay. And she needed to tell them all about her plans for her own future.

  When they pulled up in front of the house, where Ted was secured by his long leash, she noticed that Dylan had filled a bucket of water for him and had put an old blanket on the pavers so Ted would be comfortable. Ted barked and his tale slashed from side to side like the plastic strip of a whipper snipper.

  She got out of the car and walked to her dog, kneeled down, and pressed her face to his. “Haven’t you had an adventure today?”

  “And so have you,” Dylan said.

  She turned and looked up at him. “Yeah.”

  “If you want to talk about it, about anything. You know where I am.”

  She bit her lip to stop herself from crying. All she could do was nod.

  He reached out a hand to her. “C’mon. I’ll take you and the hound home.”

  That evening, Hannie sat on her veranda with Ted at her feet, looking out over the valley. She tried to reflect on the good things about the day; how much Ted had loved the car ride and the paddle in the water. How much fun she and Dylan had had together.

  She picked up her mobile, scrolled through her contacts. With tears in her eyes, Hannie called the one person she could talk to, no holds barred.

  “Hello, Hannie,” her mother, Lucy, said when she picked up the call. “How are you? Staying safe, I hope.”

  It was so good to hear her mother’s voice. It had been so hard to say goodbye to her when she’d decided to move to Cairns, but Hannie understood. And they talked weekly – sooner than that if they needed to – but it wasn’t the same as having her close. Perhaps that was why Hannie had grown so close to Mandy.

  “It’s cooler today, Mum, and we’re all good here. Ted says hello.”

  At the mention of his name, Ted’s tale thumped on the ground.

  “Give him a hug from me. How’s that leg of his?”

  “Better,” Hannie said. “He’s still not allowed to run around but we took him to the beach today, down to Port Elliot, and he absolutely loved it. He’s exhausted now. He’s lying here at my feet, asleep, aren’t you, Ted?” Ted opened one eye and closed it again.

  Lucy didn’t answer right away. “We? Who’s we?”

  “Me and Ted and Dylan.” She paused. “Dylan Knight.”

  “That name is familiar. Oh, wait a minute. It isn’t that the Dylan who Alice was mad for in high school, is it?”

  Hannie sighed. “The same.” She’d been feeling rather mad for him herself lately.

  “I remember she cried for a week when he left for Melbourne all those years ago. Your Aunt Mandy thought she was being ridiculous. Does Alice know he’s back in town?”

  “Yep. They ran into each other here, actually.”

  “Oh, I would have loved to be a fly on the wall. How is your cousin? Is she still being her usual authoritarian self?”

  And that was when Hannie burst into tears and told her mother everything. About Mandy’s diagnosis. About Dylan, and Alice’s lies, all those years ago and her accusations today. Ted must have understood the distress in her voice, because he got to his feet and plopped his head in her lap, looking up at her with a loving expression on his adorable Labrador face.

  “Damn that girl,” her mother said, exasperated. “I know she’s a relative, but she’s a piece of work, she is. She takes after your father’s side of the family.” Hann
ie’s and Alice’s fathers were brothers – Mandy and Hannie’s mother were sisters-in-law. “They were stubborn men, the Reynolds brothers. Always thought they were right, as if no one else ever had a thought with any merit. And that’s terrible news about Mandy.” Her mother paused. “You know, I’m putting two and two together and coming up with six, but I wonder if that’s why Mandy offered you the cottage eighteen months ago. Because she knew already and that you’d be there in case anything happened.”

  Hannie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ve been thinking that too. But I can’t stay here forever, can I? The business is growing and I’ve been working on plans to move.”

  “Did you ever chase up that place on the main road next to the café? The one you told me about when you called last week?”

  “No. I... I’ve been a little distracted.”

  “It sounds perfect for you, Hannie. Of course, it would be even more perfect if you were up here opening a business in Cairns.”

  Hannie managed a chuckle. She loved that her mother had never given up trying to persuade her to move to Queensland. “My heart’s here in Reynolds Ridge, Mum.”

  “Do you want me to call Alice and give her a piece of my mind?”

  Hannie startled. “Oh, god no, Mum. I can handle her. I have to give myself some time to calm down, though. If I saw her now I might just kick her in the shins. Or worse.”

  “Let me know how it goes, will you?”

  “I will, Mum.”

  “Now, tell me all about what’s going on with you and that Dylan Knight.”

  Hannie had to smile at that. It was a nice change to want to smile about something. “Something might be going on.”

  “Oh, darling. I’m so happy for you. That sounds nice.”

  “Yes, it could be.” Maybe.

  “Can you send me a photo? What does he look like now?”

  Hannie laughed. “You want a photo? What makes you think I have a photo of him?”

  “Please.” Hannie’s mother laughed. “You young people are always on your phones. I bet you’ve posted it to Instagram already.” Lucy knew she had an account, but it was for jewellery only, not hot men she’d had sex with.

  “I actually do have a photo.” Earlier that day, which already felt like a week ago, she’d snapped him when they’d been eating their fish and chips on the lawns of Horseshoe Bay They were both cross-legged, facing each other, enjoying the sunshine and the cool sea breeze, with Ted plonked between them. He was absolutely still, waiting for either of them to cave in and feed him a hot chip.

  Dylan had broken first, and when Ted had gobbled up the morsel, he’d leaned over and licked his benefactor on the face. Dylan had burst into laughter and thrown himself back on the grass, which was the clue for Ted to leap on him and keep licking. Hannie had acted fast. She’d grabbed her phone from her bag and snuck a shot.

  And just now she remembered that she’d forgotten to look at it. She hadn’t needed to look at a photo of Dylan when he was right there in front of her.

  “I’ll send it to you,” Hannie said.

  “Uh oh, you’ve got that dreamy sound in your voice. You really like him, huh?”

  “He’s a great guy, Mum.”

  “Are you seeing him again?”

  “I hope so.”

  “What do you mean you hope so? You don’t think he’ll call you or something? Hannie Reynolds. Don’t tell me you’re waiting around for some guy to ring you. You go and get him if you want him.”

  She did want him. “Thanks for the pep talk, Mum.”

  “Sometimes, Hannie, I wish I was closer. I still feel guilty about moving so far away.”

  “Oh, god, Mum, don’t be. We talk all the time. And I’m coming up at the end of April, remember?”

  “And I’m counting the days, my darling girl. Now, you call me if that horrid Alice says anything else to you. I won’t hesitate to call Mandy and tell her the truth about her daughter, although I have an inkling she already knows.”

  “Love you, Mum,” Hannie said, her voice wobbly.

  “Love you, too.”

  Hannie stared at her mobile phone for a long while after she’d ended the call to her mother. Absentmindedly, she clicked on the photo icon and found the photo of Dylan. There he was—laughing, happy, squinting his eyes, and pulling his lips together to avoid being tongue-kissed by Ted. She smiled as she sent it to her mother.

  A moment later, her mother sent back a heart emoji.

  My heart’s here in Reynolds Ridge, Mum.

  Dylan.

  She wanted him. What was more, she needed him.

  She patted Ted on her way through the kitchen, reached for her keys which were on the kitchen table, and raced outside to her car.

  It was only a couple of minutes to Dylan’s place. She turned into the dirt track which led to his place and drove through the front gate. She checked her face in her rear view mirror. She looked flushed. She was nervous and excited all at once.

  “You go and get him if you want him.” Her mum always did have the best advice when it came to men. The drive curved around and to her right, tall shrubs blocked her view of the house but as she rounded it, she saw a car parked out front of Dylan’s place.

  And then, she saw two people standing by the car.

  One of them was Dylan.

  And the other one was Alice.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dylan and Alice.

  Hannie’s throat closed over. She slammed her foot on the brakes out of pure instinct, not wanting to go any closer to what she was seeing, but the manoeuvre caused her tyres to skid against the gravel of the driveway and Dylan and Alice quickly looked up when they heard the noise.

  She couldn’t back down the road and she sure as hell couldn’t move forward. So she was caught. She squinted her eyes closed and there she was, right back in high school, longing for Dylan and jealous of Alice. She dropped her head on the steering wheel and wished some kind of black hole would open up and suck her right up into the atmosphere, or down into hell – whichever – so she wouldn’t have to talk to either of them.

  There was a rapping on her car window. She reluctantly looked up.

  It was Dylan. She powered down the window.

  His expression was guarded. “You all right?”

  No. I’m a total idiot. “Yeah, I...”

  He looked back over his shoulder and then said quietly. “Alice is here.”

  “I can see that. I really should go.”

  “Don’t.” He reached for her arm. “She was just going. Come inside for a drink, will you? We need to talk.” His expression was neutral, not smiling, not frowning, which was the face she imagined he would have to have when he broke bad news to people he’d pulled out or burning buildings and wrecked cars. We need to talk. We couldn’t find your pet cat.

  Weren’t they the worst words in the English language? We. Need. To. Talk. What that usually meant was that one person needed to do the talking and another person needed to do the leaving. Dylan opened her car door and waited. Hannie turned off the engine and got out. She followed Dylan back to where Alice was waiting by her car. Hannie was still furious at Alice and was worried if she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She still felt bruised, raw, from her cousin’s accusations and from the way she’d effectively banned her from seeing her aunt.

  “Hannie,” Alice said haughtily and avoided her gaze by staring off into the distance just over Hannie’s right shoulder.

  “How’s Mandy? What did the doctors say?”

  “She has Parkinson’s, remember? And she’s been going downhill for a while. But, wait, I think you might know that already.”

  Hannie tried to steady her voice. “When you’ve calmed down, we need to have a long conversation.”

  “About what?” Alice’s eyes darted to Dylan.

  Oh, she knew. She knew she’d been caught out in her lies.

  “I think you know, but this isn’t the time or the place. I’m sure your mother
needs you.”

  Alice sniffed. “Well, here’s one thing you should know. She doesn’t need you anymore.”

  “Alice.” Dylan spat it out like a command. “That’s enough.”

  Hannie shot a glance at Dylan. His arms were crossed over his chest, his feet planted in a wide stance and there was something twitching in his jaw. He was angry. Furious, even.

  Alice let out a sob. “That’s it. I know when I’m not welcome.” She stomped over to her car.

  “Alice,” Hannie called after her, “please tell Mandy that I hope she’s okay. When can I visit her?”

  “Never.”

  Hannie felt the rage suddenly rise up inside her. If Alice wanted to be the perfect daughter, perhaps she could start with a taste of what looking after the property and Mandy was like.

  “Alice,” Hannie called.

  Alice turned her had back just a little.

  “While you’re here, perhaps you’d like to go down to your mother’s place and see to the animals? The chickens will need putting in for the night and you may want to search through the gardens for any eggs they’ve laid. If we don’t collect them, the foxes will eat them and no one wants them hanging around the house. And be sure to bolt the door on the coop or the foxes will get in there, too. Last time that happened it was like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre in there. And watch out for Zelda.”

  “Zelda?” Alice frowned.

  Why was Hannie surprised Mandy’s daughter didn’t even know the name of her pet goat? The creature who kept the grass around the house low and safe. Who loved a cuddle and an apple from the orchard. Who bleated every time Hannie walked over from her cottage.

  “The goat. And a word of warning. Don’t turn your back on her. She likes butting people. In the butt.”

  Dylan made a weird sound. If Hannie wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like a chuckle, which he masterfully masked with a strategically-placed cough.

  Alice didn’t take the bait. She stomped back to her car, slammed the door so hard it echoed in the valley and drove off with a shower of gravel flicking from her tyres.