Paradise Road

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Paradise Road Page 8

by C. J. Duggan


  I winced, rubbing my forehead. ‘What am I doing? What are you doing? What is this?’ I snapped, tired of the cloak-and-dagger behaviour.

  Dean laughed, actually laughed, shaking his head and looking down at me with a devious spark in his green-brown eyes. Without saying anything and without taking his eyes off me, he twisted the handle of the door we stood in front of and pushed it open.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I didn’t know what to think.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there and stared at the bed, a single bed against the wall of a small, stuffy room that had nothing more than a wardrobe, a chair and a washstand in a corner.

  Okaaaay.

  Dean tilted his head. ‘Go on.’

  I looked at him as if he were mad; maybe he was. But I wasn’t going to walk into that room, not in a million ye–

  He pushed me. Actually pushed me inside so that I stumbled a little. I spun around, glowering at him. ‘Hey, what the –’

  ‘The rent will come out of your wage …’ Dean walked casually to the window, lifting the blind to reveal a brick wall. He coughed, quickly lowering it down again before spinning around.

  ‘W– wage?’

  He sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the windowsill. ‘Wage,’ he repeated.

  I stood there, stunned into silence. Was this some kind of cruel joke? He said wage, but had I heard rent, was he saying what I thought he was saying?

  ‘Cassie will show you the ropes, give you a feel for things on a slower day shift and we’ll go from there.’

  My vision blurred, and there was nothing I could do to stop the emotion that flooded me when I looked at Dean from across the room. A dank, horrid, small room that probably housed a rodent, and, yeah, had a brick wall for a view, but it was mine for the taking, mine if I wanted it.

  Dean plunged his hands deep into his jean pockets. ‘Look, I know it’s not exactly the Taj Mahal or anything, but –’

  ‘It’s perfect!’ I said quickly, shaking my head and grinning from ear to ear.

  Dean looked taken aback. ‘Well, I have never actually heard this room referred to as that before but if you say so.’ He shrugged, walking past me until I stopped him. Grabbing him by the arm, he looked down to where I touched him and it was enough of a reminder for me to remove my hand. I swallowed.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, for once wanting him to see how sincere I was, my eyes boring into his.

  A crooked smile creased the corner of his mouth. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do, I really do.’

  Dean reined in his smile, masking it like it was something that wasn’t meant to be there, before walking from the room and heading down the hall.

  •

  I couldn’t care less about the view, or if I had to spoon a rat on a flea-infested mattress. This meant one thing; no, two things! One, I wouldn’t have to board with Principal Fitzgibbons and two, I wouldn’t have to go back to Red Hill. I had won, fulfilled my end of the bargain, albeit not knowing my hourly rate or how many days a week or really anything other than I had a place to stay and a means to keep it. Sure, there was no pool or Axminster carpet or imported tiles but still, the bed was mine, all mine. I squealed, throwing myself backwards on the springy single bed. A cloud of dust poofed into the air, which caused me to break into a coughing fit.

  Minutes later, just as I was learning how to breathe again, my mobile rang. ‘Hello,’ I croaked.

  ‘We’re heeeere,’ singsonged my mum’s voice. I flinched, looking around before realising how stupid that was.

  ‘Ah, where?’

  ‘We’ve just pulled into Karen’s driveway. Where are you?’

  Oh shit.

  ‘I’m out.’

  ‘Out?’

  ‘Um, yeah, I’m just settling into my new place,’ I said, biting my lip and waiting for the response. What I got was silence, long, drawn-out silence, before Mum spoke.

  ‘Place?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve found a place. Isn’t that great?’

  ‘W– where and when exactly did this happen?’

  I could hear my dad whispering in the background, ‘What’s going on?’

  Mum put her hand over the receiver, muffling her voice but I could hear her clearly enough.

  ‘Lexie’s found a place.’

  I could almost visualise my parents’ faces, the looks of sheer horror.

  ‘Where did you say this place was again? Is it near here?’

  Uh-oh, here it came. The twenty questions, the third degree, finding fault with my decisions. My excitement from before was quickly diminishing as my eyes wandered around the dank, dusty room that no matter how much cleaning and attempting to put a feminine touch to, wouldn’t help it look any better. It would do me because I was desperate, but what would my parents make of it?

  ‘Where are you? We’ll come to you.’

  Oh shit-shit-shit …

  ‘No!’ I said a bit too loudly, standing up. ‘Um, I was just about to come home. Aren’t we going out for tea tonight with Aunty Karen?’

  ‘Yeah, I think so. Is it far? What suburb are you in?’

  Oh God, I could imagine Dad getting the map out of the glove compartment already. There would be no stopping them. They’d soon be pulling up out the back, their horrified eyes skimming over the skips, graffiti and dodgy, prison-like back door leading into a darkened hall.

  Welcome to Paradise!

  If that was to be their introduction, if this room was what they saw, then it wouldn’t matter if I had the best paying job in the world. None of it would matter. They would take one look and frogmarch me back to their car in a heartbeat. I knew my parents too well.

  ‘Lexie, are you there?’

  ‘Arcadia Lane,’ I said with a heavy heart. ‘It’s called the Wipe Out Bar – you can’t miss it.’

  •

  I hovered at the entrance to Dean’s office, biting my lip and wringing my hands together. He was focusing on the papers on his desk with deep concentration, concentration that was about to be interrupted as I gently knocked on his door.

  ‘Yes?’ he said.

  ‘So, um, I may have done something really stupid,’ I said, wincing.

  ‘You haven’t broken the back door?’

  ‘What? No.’

  Dean’s shoulders sagged a little. ‘Well, what could you have possibly done already?’

  I stepped forward, taking the seat in front of his desk.

  Dean watched on with guarded interest, intrigued by my anxiety. ‘What did you do?’ he deadpanned.

  ‘My parents have hit town.’

  Dean swivelled from side to side in his chair. ‘Right?’

  ‘And they’re coming by here now. And they might have freaked out when I said I was living in the city … above a bar.’

  ‘Go on …’

  I bit my lip some more; it was a terrible habit when I was really nervous. ‘And so I may have described my living arrangements,’ I said.

  ‘And they didn’t approve?’

  ‘Well, actually, they seemed really impressed, a little excited even.’

  Dean’s expression changed, his brows lifting into his hairline. ‘Really? Well, good,’ he said, moving forward and focusing his attention back to his paper as a means to dismiss me.

  Good? No, it was not good, far from it, and this was what I was leading up to. ‘The thing is, they were impressed when I described to them the apartment I had found.’

  Dean froze, his gaze slowly lifting from the desk. ‘Apartment?’

  ‘Yeah, I may have mentioned that it was really large and airy with an industrial galley kitchen and a balcony overlooking the –’

  ‘No,’ he bit out.

  ‘Dean, please …’

  ‘Absolutely not. Jesus, Lexie.’ He stood, pacing the room and running his hands through his hair, exasperated.

  ‘Look, I will work for nothing, I will scrub floors, toilets, mop up vomit, hose down urine, I don’t care. I just need one sm
all favour.’

  ‘You’ve been under my roof for two point five seconds. I have given you a job and a room to rent and you want a favour?’

  ‘Just hear me out. I don’t want your apartment, I just want to borrow your apartment, quickly show my parents around – put on a show so they don’t want to kidnap me and take me home. They’ll be gone by the morning and all will be as it was before.’

  Dean stood across from me, his stare hard and dark. Although I wanted to retreat from that stare, I met his eyes dead on, and tried for my best pleading expression.

  There was no change in his demeanour, not an inch of him willing to move on this. I couldn’t really blame him, but even so I felt a sinking sensation in my heart.

  ‘Okay.’ I nodded. ‘If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.’ Standing up and making my way towards the door, I heard him swear under his breath.

  Dean pushed past me. ‘When will they be here?’ he snapped, standing in my path.

  ‘Fifteen, twenty minutes,’ I said quickly, fingers crossed.

  He exhaled. ‘We’ll have to get rid of the obvious things: photos, aftershave, shoes, anything that makes it look like a bloke’s apartment,’ he said, walking down the hall. I trotted after him.

  ‘Dean, I swear to God, I owe you big time. Like, seriously, I owe you.’

  He stopped before his door and glared down at me. ‘Owe me?’ he scoffed. ‘Sweetheart, you have no idea.’

  As much as his chuckle was all kinds of scary sexy, I was starting to get worried. What on earth had I done?

  Chapter Sixteen

  I had never been so appreciative of someone living so minimally. With the few personal items, like shoes and cologne and photos, removed and stashed under his bed, there was nothing obvious that might suggest anything untoward. Sure, the wooden floors and sharp, modern lines of the apartment looked masculine, and the dark navy blue plaid of the bed cover was extremely manly, but there was nothing in the apartment my parents could object to.

  I had nightmarish flashes of Mum and Dad nearly getting barrelled over by skateboarders as they passed the tattoo parlour, with ‘People are Strange’ by The Doors playing in the background, walking among the local freaks and tourists in a part of the city they would never normally visit. I knew they had to be absolutely wooed by this apartment. They had to think it so utterly amazing that they could see past all the depravity, grime and graffiti; they had to love it in a way that had them wishing they lived here, and as I stepped out onto the balcony taking in a salty sea breath of air, I knew that they would approve, because standing on the big, sweeping corner balcony outside of the Wipe Out Bar, looking beyond, was undoubtedly the best view in all of Paradise.

  There was the long stretch of the dark blue sea, the backdrop to the boardwalk that stretched along the shoreline leading out to a huge pontoon and an impressive hall and amusement park; then there was the Ferris wheel, the jewel in the crown of the seaside park. Laughter, chatter and sounds of people living and enjoying themselves against the delicate wash of the ocean was intoxicating. This was a view of Paradise you just couldn’t see in suburbia, with all its perfect, clean lines, manicured trees and concrete driveways. Suburbia was stifling in all its unnatural polished, bleached surfaces. Here was the reality, here was where it was at. I sensed Dean standing beside me, looking out towards the horizon.

  ‘Not bad, huh?’

  I turned to him, smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. ‘It’s amazing.’

  ‘Yeah, well, Mummy and Daddy better like it, because there’s no penthouse to show them.’

  ‘They’ll love it, I guarantee it.’

  I heard the jingling of keys, and turned to see Dean pocket his wallet.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I think it’s probably best they don’t find me here when they arrive,’ he smirked.

  Okay, that was a good point. ‘So are you going out, out?’ I asked, trying to seem nonchalant. I don’t know why but I wanted to know where he was going.

  ‘Yeah, I would rather not have to lie to your parents’ faces, if that’s all right.’

  I felt guilt claw at my insides. I was telling a little white lie; okay, so it wasn’t that little, but knowing them like I did there was no way they would ever see reason if they thought I was living in squalor. If they thought I had a deal too good to refuse with this apartment then surely that would win them over, wouldn’t it?

  ‘I’ll get Cassie to send them up to my apartment … well, your apartment,’ he corrected.

  ‘Won’t she ask questions?’

  Dean paused halfway out the door, glancing back at me. ‘The very first thing my staff learn here is not to ask questions,’ he said in all seriousness. I took a mental note.

  No questions.

  ‘Oh, before I forget,’ he reached into his back pocket and flicked open his wallet, thumbing out a small card and handing it over to me, ‘my business card. Ring me when the coast is clear.’

  He started down the hall. ‘And try not to break anything,’ he called back.

  •

  Okay, they would be here any minute now.

  I used what time I had to do a last-minute sweep of the apartment, getting familiar with its layout and where things like milk, coffee and tea were kept, cups and such for when they would want a drink. There was nothing much to it, really, the apartment was like a giant warehouse. Large, open spaces, all open living, with a lounge and a huge TV at the far end of the room. There wasn’t even a bedroom, just a bed in the middle of the room. The only thing that was separate was the bathroom, which was in its own little alcove, yet still quite spacious and decked out tastefully. The whole apartment was newly renovated, fitted out with a keen eye for great craftsmanship, completely in contrast to the rest of the building.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. They were late, but then I thought of them making their way cautiously through the arcade and thought it made perfect sense that they would be late. Knowing them they would probably conduct interviews with all the members of staff before they made their way up here. Even if they did love where I lived, there would still be questions – many, many questions. What’s my job, how many hours, what does it pay? Will they do school hours, won’t this be too loud, don’t go drinking just because you’re now eighteen. Wow, eighteen. I had completely forgotten it was my birthday today. Amid all the chaos it just felt like any other day. Well, any other day that you get given a job and a place to stay handed to you on a silver platter. After my rather intense standoff with Dean last night and all the trouble I basically caused whenever I was near him, he seriously was, and it really pained me to admit this, a good person. I smiled. Oh brother, I would never, ever tell him that. I’m sure my appreciation for his character will soon wear off after a few shifts working for him.

  Working?

  Real-life paid work and a place to call home. Things were looking up! And just as I was coming to terms with the new life I was about to begin, and the new leaf I was about to turn over, there was a knock on the door, causing me to jump even though I’d been expecting it, clutching my already pounding heart.

  Oh God.

  They’re here.

  Suddenly giddiness overtook all my anxiety and regardless of it only being a couple of weeks since I’d seen them last, I still missed my parents like crazy.

  Another knock sounded and I ran across the huge space, closing in on the door, sliding sideways as I overshot the door in haste. I laughed, clasping onto the handle, twisting and yanking it open with an air of regal flair and enthusiasm …

  ‘WELCOME TO MY APARTMENT!’

  Oh my God I’m going to hell.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I barely had a chance to breathe before I was crushed by a bear hug from my mum. ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my beautiful girl.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I could barely get the words out.

  I kept a close eye on Mum’s expression when she entered the apartment, but then my gaze shifted to a red-faced
Dad, who was busying himself carrying a large box. I think he was trying to say Happy Birthday, but I don’t think he had the strength to speak as he mimed with his head to open the door wider and he staggered on through.

  ‘Oh God, Dad, put it on the table over there, before you do yourself an injury.’

  I padded after him, my excitement building thinking about what could possibly be in the box. Whatever it was it was really, really heavy. I fought the urge to dance on the balls of my feet, for the first time that day I had actually felt excited about it being my birthday. My thoughts returned to my mum as she circled around the apartment, a look of awe and wonder spread across her face.

  ‘H– how much is this place costing?’ she asked.

  And here it began, question one of a million and one questions, questions I didn’t have the answers to.

  ‘Ah, what’s in the box?’ I asked, partly because I really wanted to know but mostly because I really wanted to change the subject.

  ‘The box is for you,’ said Dad, his face having turned back to a normal colour. He swept his hand out, encouraging me to inspect.

  My smile returned, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him on the cheek.

  ‘Happy Birthday luv.’

  ‘I wouldn’t get too excited if I were you,’ warned Mum, but her words fell on deaf ears as I powered forward, pulling at the cardboard flaps, exposing what lay within. I paused, my smile falling away.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  I blinked, confused. I lifted my eyes to my parents. ‘School books?’

  Seriously?

  Amid all the chaos and preoccupation with finding a job and a place to stay, I really hadn’t put too much thought into starting school again. My future had been so uncertain, I kind of hadn’t wanted to put all my hopes into everything actually working out, but then it suddenly occurred to me. My books were here, my parents had actually brought them here, which could only mean one thing.

  ‘So, does this mean I can stay?’ I asked, my expression imploring as I looked into my mum’s blue eyes. ‘I know you want to ask all the questions, and draw up pros and cons lists and analyse all the data while pulling every detail apart and finding flaws in all my answers, but, please, can you just let me have this, just this once?’

 

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