by Cathryn Hein
‘Sure. I can drive over late morning, if you want. Give us time to do something in the afternoon. If you’re not busy, that is.’
‘Nah, I’m not busy.’ He sounded surprised, which was no wonder. Jack was surprised with himself. ‘Merisa—that’s my girlfriend—has started pre-season soccer training so she’s tied up. You’ll get to meet her Saturday night though.’
‘Look forward to it.’
After checking a few other details, Jack hung up. He smiled at the phone then tucked it back in his pocket.
Early days, but still progress.
*
‘I am so tired!’ groaned Elsa, swinging from the car into Jack’s arms and a long, steamy kiss that had Jack contemplating outdoor sex.
He came up for air before things got too heated. ‘Not too tired, I hope.’
She tapped his lip with her forefinger. ‘Cheeky.’
Jack grinned, then snatched at her finger and kissed the tip. ‘Come inside where it’s cool.’
‘You mean where your bed is?’
‘That too.’
‘Can I have a shower first? I stink of work.’
‘Only if I can join you.’
She laughed and twirled back into his arms. ‘Why do you think I mentioned it?’
Forty minutes later they were on Jack’s bed facing one another with dopey smiles, the fan blowing cool air over their heated bodies.
‘So,’ said Elsa, her hands tucked under her cheek. Her long red hair was sprawled over her shoulder and back, messy and crinkled from sex and drying unstyled. ‘How was your day?’
‘Slow. Boring without you.’
She smiled and wriggled closer. ‘Did you daydream about me?’
‘Yeah.’ He played with her hair, lifting tresses and letting it fall back down, liking the way it flashed different shades of copper and rose gold, and shone against her pale skin. Freckles dotted the most exposed parts of her body but the rest was like cream. She was stunningly beautiful. Jack had a dumb, adolescent wish that they could stay like this forever. ‘Did you daydream about me?’
‘I did. It was very distracting and not very helpful with a salon full of pensioners.’
‘I hope they behaved.’
‘Of course.’
Jack frowned at the false note in her voice and how Elsa’s gaze slid from his. He studied her face. ‘Did something happen today?’
‘No. Just the usual tea and gossip. Although Mrs. Fairclough got very excited when she heard about our dinner date. Demanded I tell her all about it, which was tricky, seeing as there was no dinner-ing whatsoever.’
Jack wasn’t sure he believed the ‘tea and gossip’ comment, but he let it go. They were in bed together. The moment was too blissful to spoil by raising something one of her clients may or may not have said. Besides, in Jack’s experience, Elsa could give as good as she got.
‘What did you tell her?’
She bugged her eyes at him. ‘The truth, silly. What else?’
‘You didn’t?’
‘I did.’
Jack groaned and rolled onto his back. Elsa took that as a cue to straddle him.
She leaned forwards with her arms braced on his shoulders, causing her hair to fall in straggly curtains around her face, reminding Jack of a mermaid. ‘I said I had a wonderful night. What did you think I’d say?’
‘Minx,’ he said, smiling and resting his hands on her hips. Already he was feeling randy again.
Elsa’s response was to laugh and wiggle against his groin. ‘You bet I am.’
‘Jesus, Elsa, I thought you were tired?’
‘Sleep is for wimps.’
‘Who are you calling a wimp?’ he said, deftly tumbling her so he was on top and fitted between her legs with Elsa giggling beneath him. His hand went to her breast. The peaked nipple felt delicious against his palm. Holding her arms up with one hand, he bent to suck on it.
‘Jack,’ she whispered, causing him to look up.
She swallowed and the sudden shyness in her expression made his heart beat slow until it whump-whumped painfully against his ribs. She held his gaze for so long that for a sickening moment he was convinced she was going to tell him this was all a mistake.
‘Elsa?’
She smiled and shook her head. ‘Nothing. Just a silly thought.’
‘What sort of silly thought?’
‘One that wished you’d get back on the job!’
The world stopped lurching and settled right again. Jack had Elsa beneath him, her skin flushing, blue eyes glittery, hair splayed out in a rose-gold halo.
Fire and sky.
Elsa.
‘You mean like this?’ he said, tweaking her nipple and loving it when she jerked beneath him.
‘More,’ she breathed. ‘I want more.’
‘So do I, little lioness,’ he whispered, lowering his mouth again. ‘So do I.’
*
‘What are you up to this weekend?’ Jack asked from the kitchen as he arranged the chicken thighs in a roasting dish and sprinkled them with herb mix. Elsa had discovered Strathroy’s dusty CD collection and was at the far end of the room with the player, happily skipping through golden oldies.
She left Johnny Cash gravelly crooning “Ghost Riders in the Sky,” pulled out a stool at the breakfast bar and rested her chin on her folded hands. ‘Saturday, I have a wedding. Just a small one. It’s the second time round for both, and only one maid of honour, so there shouldn’t be any bridezilla-ing. After that I’m free. Why?’ She gave him a saucy look. ‘Do you have plans for me?’
Jack shoved the chicken in the oven and washed his hands. ‘Jesse asked me to a barbecue. At Dad’s.’
‘In Melbourne?’
He wiped his hands carefully. It was one thing for Elsa to say she didn’t care about his dad, another for Jack to be associating freely with him. ‘Yeah.’
‘That’ll be good, won’t it? You’ll get to see Jesse and it must be ages since you caught up with your dad.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘Why would I mind?’
He tossed the dirty cloth aside, rested his bum against the sink edge and stared at his feet. It was stupid to feel shame but he did. It was ingrained.
‘Jack,’ she said, sliding off her stool and coming to fold her arms around his waist and press her cheek against his chest. Jack bent his head and closed his eyes as he breathed in her goodness. ‘You have to stop this.’
He stroked her silky hair, his voice husky. ‘I know.’
‘I’m with you for you, not your family.’
He kept his arms wrapped around her, wishing he could absorb her certainty and strength. ‘I’m so lucky to have found you.’
‘We both are, Jack,’ she said, rising on her toes and angling her face for a kiss. ‘We both are.’
Chapter Sixteen
Fraser’s house was in the wealthy suburb of Middle Park, a few streets back from Beaconsfield Parade and the beach. The house was a Victorian-era semi-detached terrace that had belonged to Fraser’s grandparents, with a modest façade that hid a heavily renovated interior and rear.
As usual, parking was at a premium. Jack lapped the street twice before finding a space a hundred metres away. During the height of Melbourne’s infamous gangland wars, over a dozen years before, the street was often monitored by an unmarked police vehicle. Fraser used to get a kick out of pointing it out. Jesse would always laugh, while Jack averted his face and sweated with shame.
He unclipped Daisy from her chain and ordered her down. The dog jumped with ease and waited obediently on the grassy verge for Jack to retrieve his duffel bag from the tray.
‘Sorry, Daise,’ he said, bending and clipping a lead to her collar. Daisy gave him a look but took it in stride. She had Jack pegged. The humiliation of a lead would be made up for with something tasty later.
Jack headed for the house, his stomach tight. Fraser’s place tended to make him monosyllabic, afraid to speak much in case it was misinterpreted by the pol
ice who, Jesse used to brag, regularly bugged the house. He had to try though. Jack couldn’t afford to screw this up and things had calmed with his dad since Jack was a teenager. The main players in the wars were dead, in jail or laying very low. Fraser’s continued freedom was either due to extreme cleverness or from keeping his nose clean. Jack hoped like hell it was the latter.
He stood on the porch and pressed the doorbell. A glossy, black-painted door and tessellated ceramic tiles made it look like any other restored entry, but somewhere a security camera was capturing his every breath. Every door, every window was covered by sensors connected to a central hub inside, and to an external security agency. It wasn’t because there was anything particularly valuable in the house, although there was plenty a burglar could flog. The security was personal. Fraser had enemies and they weren’t necessarily police.
Jesse opened the door wearing casual shorts, thongs and a designer polo. He enveloped Jack in a brief hug and patted his back. ‘Good to see you, bro.’
‘You too, Jesse.’ He pointed to Daisy. ‘Sorry about Daise. I couldn’t leave her on her own.’
‘She’s fine. Come on in.’ He held the door open as Jack passed through.
Jack noticed him scanning the street. ‘Problem?’ he asked, and immediately regretted it when Jesse’s expression clouded.
‘No.’
Jesse reengaged the security and pushed past Jack to lead the way down the hall. It wasn’t a large house, but once away from the original front rooms and into the new living area at the rear if felt bigger, thanks to the white minimalist décor and enormous windows that flooded the rooms with light. Daisy’s claws sounded scratchy on the blonde timber floor. Jack hoped she wasn’t leaving marks.
The cantilevered doors to the outside deck and pool were open. Jack dumped his duffel, unclipped Daisy’s lead and shooed her out. The dog trotted the tiny yard, nosing its border of low box hedge before sitting on her haunches and regarding Jack with a look that said ‘Are you serious? This is it?’
‘Beer?’ asked Jesse, holding the fridge door open.
‘Sure.’ He scanned the room. The television was about twice the size of the one that used to hang on the wall, but not much else had changed. It still had the feel of a showroom; the antithesis of Strathroy. ‘Dad home?’
Jesse popped the bottle tops and handed one to Jack. ‘He’ll be back around four. Cheers.’
They clinked and drank. Jack studied the room some more, wishing he could think of something to say. From Jesse’s awkwardness, his brother was having the same problem.
‘Anything we need to organise for tonight?’ he asked eventually.
‘Nah, it’s all sorted. Picked up everything from South Melbourne Market this morning.’ He indicated the pool with his beer. ‘Pool’s there if you want a swim. Beach is open if you prefer that.’
‘Beach sounds good.’ At least it’d give them something else to look at besides white walls, and Jack might find it easier to talk.
Changed into board shorts and thongs, their beers finished and Daisy left with a bowl of water, Jack and Jesse wandered down to the beach. The sandy shore was dotted with locals making the most of the sunshine. Bronzed sunworshippers lay belly down on towels, between picnicking families, while kids in colourful sun-safe suits and floppy hats dug holes and made sandcastles near the tide line where the sand was damp.
The patrolled section was jammed with swimmers and paddlers. Jack and Jesse waded into the water to the left of the flags, shared a grin and dove under as a pair, racing out to the surf break and back to shore like they used to as teens. More swim-fit, Jesse won. Jack didn’t mind. It was the shared moment that mattered.
They stood in waist-deep water, catching their breaths and people watching.
‘How are you getting on at Strathroy?’ asked Jesse.
‘Okay. Bought some more cattle the other day. Thinking about renovating a couple of paddocks in the autumn.’
‘I’m amazed you’ve lasted this long.’
‘Couldn’t leave if I wanted to. Haven’t found the sapphires.’
Jesse’s expression shuttered. He stared at a bunch of bikini-clad girls playing beach volleyball. Jack took a breath. He needed to try harder.
‘And I’ve met a girl.’
Jesse turned back. ‘What, a local one?’
‘Yeah. Elsa O’Donoghue. Her mum’s your old teacher.’
‘Mrs. O’Donoghue’s daughter?’ Jesse laughed. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘She remembers you. Shayna—Mrs. O’Donoghue—I mean. Asked how you were when I went round for dinner the other night.’
‘Yeah? What did you say?’
‘That you were fine.’ Which wasn’t quite the truth of what he’d said, but it would do. ‘Still in Melbourne.’
Jesse tucked his hands under his armpits and swished a leg through the water. ‘She was my favourite teacher. The others always looked at us like we were scum, but she never did.’
‘She liked you. She liked Mum too. Admired her. Called her fearless. I never thought about Mum that way, but I guess she was.’
His words had them both lost in memory for a few minutes before Jesse broke their quiet.
‘Ilsa, you say?’
‘Elsa.’
‘What she do?’
‘Hairdresser.’
Jesse regarded him with interest. ‘Did you meet over a haircut or something?’
‘Something like that.’ Jack was going to leave it at that and then remembered he was meant to be trying harder. ‘I met her the day of Mum’s funeral. She was too busy to cut my hair so I helped myself to her clippers. Left a hundred bucks on the counter for her trouble and walked out.’ He smiled crookedly at Jesse’s raised eyebrows. ‘Not my finest hour. Went back a few months later and she insisted on giving me a free haircut and a shave.’
‘A shave?’
‘Yeah. Elsa does cut-throat shaves. They’re good.’
‘They are. There’s a barber near Dad’s office that does them. Wouldn’t have thought there’d be much of a market for that in Wirralong though.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought so either but Wirra Station is now this hot wedding venue and apparently wedding parties ask for it.’
‘Huh,’ said Jesse.
‘What about you? What’ve you been doing?’
Jesse shrugged. ‘Usual.’
‘Which is?’
‘Bit of this and that.’
Jack said nothing. His brain was going places and he didn’t want to open his mouth in case the two connected, and he ruined the small rapport he’d built.
Jesse sighed. ‘Go on, say it.’
‘Say what?’
‘The shit you’re thinking.’
‘I’m not thinking anything.’
‘Yes, you are. You think I’m dealing or doing Dad’s dirty work.’ His jaw jutted. ‘Well, I’m not.’
‘Fine. What do you do all day then?’
Jesse eased down into the water until it lapped at his chin and stretched his arms out. His pale blue eyes, the exact same shade as Jack’s, seemed even lighter against the sea. ‘Study.’
His brother studying? That had to be a first. Jesse wasn’t dumb by any standard, far from it, but he’d hated school.
‘Studying what?’
‘Law.’
‘You’re shitting me?’
Jesse shot him a withering look.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Law’s good. Which uni?’
‘UNE. By correspondence. I’ve only done one semester so far, but it’s been easy. I passed everything at least. Distinctions.’
‘Well done.’ Jack smiled and shook his head. His brother studying law and earning distinctions? The world took weird turns sometimes. ‘What does Dad think of it?’
‘Reckons it’s funny.’ Jesse rolled onto his back and floated, arms outstretched. ‘I think he’s a bit proud though.’
Jack joined him. The vibrant sky reminded him of Elsa’s eyes. He wondered what she was doing, if she
was thinking of him in return. ‘I’m sure he is. It’s a cool thing, Jesse. I’m proud of you too.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Is that how you met your girlfriend? Through study.’
‘Merisa? Nah. We met the usual way.’ Jesse grinned. ‘Drunk in a nightclub. She’s great. Really smart. You’ll like her.’
Though he tried his hardest, when Merisa turned up at the house later that afternoon, Jack found he couldn’t warm to her at all. She was as attractive as he’d expected, given his brother’s past form with women, and fit, with muscular arms that spoke of hours working out with weights. Her skin was smooth and burnished, her eyes and hair dark from what Jack suspected were Mediterranean roots, and her smile exposed straight, white teeth that spoke of either excellent genes or expensive dentistry. She was friendly too, breezing into the house with a cheery hello, a kiss for Jesse and a soft-skinned but firm handshake for Jack, followed by a barrage of questions about his life, and demands for stories about Jesse as a boy that she could tease him with later.
He blamed Daisy for his distrust. One sniff of Merisa and Daisy’s hackles rose like a porcupine’s.
‘Oh no!’ Merisa said, laughing. ‘She hates me.’
‘Sorry,’ said Jack. ‘She must be in a mood. Unless you’ve been around other dogs today?’
‘Oh. That must be it. Kelly—one of my teammates—brought her dog to training.’
Alarmed by Daisy’s hackles, he tied her to a fencepost at the back of the yard in case she did something awful like nip. Jack wondered what sort of dog this Kelly owned to make Daisy react like that. It seemed weird. Daisy usually only raised her hackles at threats or when she was uncertain.
Fraser arrived an hour or so later, looking like an average, if oversized, suburban dad in pale shorts, deck shoes and a chambray shirt.
‘Jack,’ he said, extending his hand and drawing Jack into a one-armed man-hug. He patted Jack in a way that felt sincere. ‘It’s good to see you, son.’
‘You too, Dad.’
The pats continued a few seconds more before Fraser released him, eyeing him up and down with unfeigned pleasure. ‘You’re looking good, Jack. Really good.’
‘Thanks. You’re not doing too badly yourself.’
