Dan rolled his head on the pillow. What was Alex doing in the inventory? She was just another form of temporary. At least she could be counted as a transactional relationship. Not that having her on the other side of the ledger mightn’t be nice, if she was more like the Alex he’d glimpsed at Son of a Beach Bar. That was the Alex he wanted to dance with again, to feel in his arms, to press against his body and touch with his lips, but the real Alex was the one from class and she was superior, judgemental, and uptight and had no place invading his thoughts.
He sat up, pushing the sheet away. Sleep was a long way off. Maybe it was all just a physical thing and that’s why Alex was in his head. It’d been a month now since he’d gone home with anyone. A month and he’d slept every night alone. Maybe that was the problem. He didn’t know how he felt about that. Four weeks was nothing in terms of time, so the time itself wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t the first time sex hadn’t been on tap. Maybe he was just plain missing the physical high of taking some girl to bed. Or maybe he was just lonely. Ant was spending more time at work, Mitch had a big job on, and Fluke was avoiding him. Maybe it was just that.
He was wide awake and he didn’t know why and there was something wrong with the inventory and he only knew one way to fix it and that required wiping himself out with the help of a bottle of something strong.
In the morning, Mitch phoned Belinda, Phil phoned the florist, and Dan slept through the alarm, woke with a jackhammer in his head, and was late for work.
16. Break
Fluke was early. So early the studio wasn’t open yet. Normally he’d have gone via McMurty’s and hung out while Dan finished up or grabbed a quick bite to eat with Mitch. But Mitch was hard-pressed for time and he wanted to keep his distance from Dan.
He still couldn’t forgive him. It’s not what mates did. It’s not what Dan should’ve done, especially after all his talk about changing. That was part of the problem. Dan wasn’t one of those blokes who was all talk. He did what he said he was going to do. Half the time he didn’t tell you stuff, he just did it, and you found out later. Like the time when he was sixteen and left town. He’d had that plan well baked before he’d told them. The problem was Dan had flat out disappointed him and he didn’t know how to get around it.
Katie had yelled at him to get over it and he knew he should, but seeing Dan with her that way and knowing what would happen and how bloody awkward it would be when Dan inevitably dumped Katie or two-timed her or simply forgot she existed was the other problem. And the image of the two of them clasped together at the bar with no regard for where they were or who saw them was branded front and centre in his brain.
Fluke was still thinking about it when Scott arrived. He got out of his much-repaired, fifteen-year-old Toyota Corolla and walked across the street to join him. Scott was getting out of his own car, a late model, black Volvo coupe.
“Cool wheels,” Fluke said, surprising Scott who’d opened the tailgate to collect his bag.
“Hello Fluke,” Scott kept his head down in the car’s interior. He didn’t look like he was keen for a chat.
“New?” said Fluke.
“What?” Scott said and Fluke pick up on the edge of irritation in his voice.
“Is it a new car? Looks new?”
Scott straightened up, looped his bag over his shoulder, and reached for the top edge of the tailgate. “Yes, it’s new.”
The two men stepped up the gutter together. Fluke asked Scott about the transmission, but Scott wasn’t paying attention. He fired the remote at the Volvo and the car made a clicking sound and the red light blinked at them. As he turned back he smacked straight into Fluke, went, “Argh”, forgot the gutter was there, and stumbled as his foot went over the edge.
They both heard the loud crack, dry and sharp, and Fluke saw Scott’s eyes flare and the colour flee from his face before he went down on his hands and knees, half on and half off the kerb.
“Mate, are you ok?” Fluke bent to give Scott a hand up. Scott hissed at him, rolled his eyes back into his head, and passed out.
When Alex arrived, the studio was locked and there was no sign of Scott, though his car was outside. Fifteen minutes before class there was still no sign of him and no message, which was unusual – so unusual Alex started to worry. She called and got voicemail. She fired off a text message and waited for the return ping. She was still waiting when the beginners started arriving and it became obvious she’d have to teach this class on her own.
Fluke was missing too and neither Dan nor Mitch knew where he was. It was clear to Alex they’d expected him; his car was outside too. Scott and Fluke were such an unlikely coupling it never occurred to Alex to consider they were somewhere together, which meant she was totally unprepared for Fluke to be the messenger, and less prepared to learn Scott was in the hospital with a suspected broken ankle.
Fluke arrived as the beginner’s class was finishing and, avoiding the ‘what gives’ looks from Dan and Mitch, went straight to Alex.
Dan’s first thought was whether Ant would fail Fluke on a technicality and whether Mitch could keep his mouth shut to stop that happening. His second was that something bad had happened. He could tell by looking at Alex, her hand over her mouth. He watched as she made a few quick phone calls, spoke to some of the students in the next class, picked up her bag, and left.
When Fluke joined them, it all became clear. It was less clear why Fluke was so agitated until he told them what happened and ended the story with, “It’s my fault.”
“You wrestled Scott to the ground and snapped his ankle like a twig just for the hell of it?” said Dan.
“No. But I got in his way and I caused him to trip off the gutter. If I’d have stayed out of his road it wouldn’t have happened.”
“It was a dumb accident, Flukey,” said Mitch, not looking at Fluke. The advanced Latin class had started with one of the students filling in as teacher and Mitch was watching Belinda. Belinda was making a show of ignoring Mitch, but with each twist of her eyes from his, she gave herself away.
“How bad a break is it?” Dan asked. He was watching Mitch watch Belinda. Mitch had related the story of Belinda’s drunk-dial. He figured it was only a matter of time before they were back together if Mitch didn’t screw it up.
“They don’t know yet,” said Fluke glumly. “The problem is how it affects Alex.”
“What’s Alex got to do with it?” said Dan. She’d obviously been concerned for Scott, but what was the big deal about that? That was nice wasn’t it, to have friends who cared?
“They’re in this dance competition. Remember when we saw her at Son of a Beach? The prize money is fifty Gs and they’re in the lead on points. Scott’s screwed for at least six weeks, if not longer. Unless Alex can find another partner, she’s out of the comp.”
“Ah, but surely she will,” said Dan, elbowing Mitch. “You coming?”
Mitch shook his head, “Might hang out here for a bit.”
“Fluke?”
“I’ll hang out with Mitch.”
Dan could see Fluke felt like crap about tripping Scott, about what that did to Alex. He just wished Fluke would talk to him about it. But he knew this was part of his punishment and Fluke would choke rather than talk.
When he got outside he found Alex huddled under the hood of her car. She looked furious, an echo of the steam issuing from the engine hovering about her flushed face.
“Alex, let me have a look,” he said, coming alongside her.
She stepped back to give him room, a scowl of annoyance on her face. “Can you get it started?”
Dan assessed the old Mazda. It could be one of half a dozen things wrong with it, and Alex had flooded the engine so it sizzled with heat. There was nothing he could do until it cooled down. There was something he could do for the agitated heat in Alex though.
“Leave the car with me. It’ll have to be towed – I’ll sort it out. And I can drop you wherever you need to be – the hospital?”
Al
ex shook her head. “Thanks, but I can get a taxi. I’ll have to leave the car. I can’t really afford to have it towed right now. I guess it’s safe enough here if it won’t start.”
“It’s no problem. I’m happy to sort it out for you.”
“Thanks Dan, but that’s not necessary.” She turned away from him, checking the street for a taxi.
“Is there something wrong with taking my help?”
She half turned, still watching the street. “What?”
“Alex, I’m a mechanic – this is what I do. I can sort this out for you. No charge, except for any parts we might need.”
“Oh. Still that’s a lot of trouble to go to.”
“I wouldn’t suggest it if it was too much trouble.” The engine was still steaming and hissing and Dan could feel his own temperature rising. Why the fuck was Alex so prickly with him? He was trying to do something nice, and she was making him feel like he was in the wrong. She was making him feel like a great hulking, thoughtless, caveman bully for fuck’s sake.
He was about to give up and walk away when she said, “Ok. That would be great. And if it’s not too out of your way, I’d love a lift to the hospital.”
Alex was amused by the Valiant. When Dan opened the passenger-side door, her frown was replaced by a shy smile. “Is this what they call a muscle car?”
“Yeah. A 1969 Valiant VF.”
“It purrs,” she said, sounding surprised.
“She does. She’s a dream to drive.”
“She?”
“Cars and boats, they’re always shes.”
“Why is that?”
Dan snuck a quick look at Alex, wondered if she’d like the answer. “Two schools of thought and it goes back to ships. The first says that in the old Romance languages the word for ship was feminine, so ships got given female names.”
“And the second?”
“Women were considered bad luck at sea, so the closest a sailor could come to having a woman at sea was to name his ship after one.”
“And cars are just ships in another form right?”
“I guess.”
“And calling your car a ‘she’ is just another way for men to be patronising and dominating.”
Dan stiffened his spine against the back of the Valiant’s seat. There it was, that broomstick up Alex’s butt. What made this girl so uptight? “I didn’t invent the convention, Alex, and I’m not trying to patronise you or dominate you.”
“You don’t have to try, Dan. With men like you it comes naturally.”
This time it wasn’t a quick sideways look. This time Dan swung his head completely to his left, taking his glance off the road long enough to meet Alex’s eyes and see she wasn’t kidding around. “Hey, I’m just trying to do you a favour, but if you can’t cop that, I can pull over right now and you can sort it all out yourself.”
He snapped his eyes back to the road, sliding his palm around the wheel, finger itching to flick the blinker on and have her out of the car and on the footpath before she knew what was happening. Instead he felt her hand, cool and light on his shoulder.
“Dan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m worried about Scott. I appreciate your help, I really do. It was a stupid thing to say. I can’t think why I said it.”
It was her wide-eyed look of surprise, her touch, and the sound of genuine regret in her voice that made Dan exhale, re-orient his hands on the wheel, and relax his grip on his temper.
“That’s ok, Alex. I get it. Fluke told us about the competition. He said you were in the lead.”
“We are, but if Scott’s ankle is broken, we’re out of contention.”
“Can’t you find another partner?”
“No. The competition rules say you have to start and finish with the same partner. Even if that wasn’t the rule, every competition grade dancer I know is already partnered up for this. The prize money is so good no one wanted to miss out.”
“You could try again next year.”
“Maybe, but I really needed the prize money this year. You’ve seen the car and I was hoping to support myself through another year of uni.”
“That’s bad luck.”
“But it’s no excuse for me to take it out on you. I am sorry, Dan.”
Dan’s peripheral vision showed him Alex slumped forward in her seat, hiding her face in her hands.
He reached across and touched her shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry about Scott and the comp. There’s nothing I can do to help with that, but at least I can get your car back on the road.”
For a second, before he had to look back at the road again, he caught her eyes as she lifted her head. The frustration and anger had gone, though she was anxious still, and it was suddenly clear why she’d appeared in his early morning inventory.
He’d have been just as surprised to be sideswiped by another car, or to rear end someone, as he was to realise that he wanted Alex to think well of him.
Outside a small circle of people, essentially the boys and Katie, Dan had never worried about what people thought of him. Living with Jimmy knocked that kind of pride out of him, so it was a shock to realise he didn’t want Alex to think he was a bully or a Neanderthal or whatever else it was she thought that would make her bat away his help and assume his intentions were motivated by self-interest.
He didn’t know what it meant to think about kissing her at night and wanting her good regard the next day, but he knew it was trouble.
17. Replacement Feet
Alex was quick to jump from the Valiant when Dan pulled up outside the hospital. Much as she was grateful for the lift, and for Dan’s help with the car, she was embarrassed about how she’d reacted to him and wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible.
The more she’d thought about it while they rode along in silence, the more she figured her harsh judgement of Dan was born from the influence of her mother and Belinda.
Belinda had pegged Dan for a player, and from his good looks alone that could be the case. At the bar that night he’d had no shortage of female attention and he’d charmed all the women in class from the married ones to the very shy and socially awkward Carlie. He’d even charmed Trevor. He was self-assured, interesting, and funny, and had a way of looking at you when you talked that told you he was giving you his full attention, and then he demonstrated it by remembering what you said. She’d seen him do it. It was a fine confidence trick.
Her father had been a player, romancing Sylvia as well as several other women at the same time and then disappearing when the result of his affair bore fruit. He’d left no address, no way of contacting him, and when Sylvia enquired at his office, she discovered he’d used a false name. She had no idea who the man she’d hoped to marry was, so it was almost in Alex’s genes to react to Dan the way she did. Sylvia would detest him on sight for his very ability to be charming – that and the fact he was an uneducated mechanic without any ambition.
But nothing he’d done to Alex directly deserved the scorn she’d poured on him just now, and it was a pitiful way to pay back his good-natured attempt to help out. She was dragging her bag out of the car when he said, “How do I contact you about the car?”
“I’ll call you.” She might have been unfair to him, but favours aside, he wasn’t getting her phone number. “I’ve got your number from the student contact details.”
“Ok. Give me till about 11am tomorrow and I’ll have some news for you.”
Alex nodded, gripped her bag, swung the Valiant’s heavy door closed, and rushed through the hospital entrance. She found Scott with Trevor in the orthopaedic ward. They were both huddled over Trevor’s tablet computer.
“Are you allowed to use that in here?” she said, entering the room.
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” said Trevor.
“And what they know about hurt should be good for me when I finally get to talk to someone in charge,” grizzled Scott.
“How do you feel?” Alex sat on the end of the bed away from Scott�
�s swollen and discoloured ankle.
“Like I could strangle a ranga Neanderthal. He was so busy perving at the sleek lines of my lovely girl, he got under my feet and that was that.”
“The Volvo is a she?”
“Of course,” said Scott. “But the gender of my car isn’t the issue here. Finding you another partner is.”
“We’ve checked the rules,” said Trevor, pulling the tablet out of Scott’s hands and settling it on his lap. “You can only win the comp on points with the partner you enrolled with.”
Alex shrugged, put her hand on Scott’s shin. She’d known it would come to this. “So we gave it our best shot.”
“Are you kidding? We’re still in this,” said Scott.
“You are not thinking of dancing on a broken ankle.” She was aghast Scott would consider it. It’s not like he was doing it for the money either; it was simply about winning for him.
“He was, but he’s not, and there’s to be no discussion about that,” said Trevor.
Scott said, “But...”
“He’s not!” Trevor repeated, glaring at Scott. “Does the expression ‘untold damage’ mean anything to you?”
Scott sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “I’m only out six to eight weeks and Trevor found a rule loophole, so assuming we can find another partner to fill in – we’re still in this.”
“What’s the loophole?” Alex looked from Scott to Trevor. She didn’t know whether to let hope flicker or if this was grasping at straws.
“The rules say you have to finish the competition with the partner you entered with. It doesn’t say anything about having a replacement partner for some of the heats,” said Trevor.
“I’ll be fine to compete in the final rounds and we’re so far ahead by points if we find you a competent replacement partner for three rounds we still have a chance,” said Scott.
Grease Monkey Jive Page 10
