Tumble Creek

by Louise Forster

  ‘Is that …?’ Brock asked, sounding amused.

  Sofie remained frozen to the spot; moments ticked by, and she kept staring into his laughing eyes. She couldn’t speak or move, and didn’t even try to hide the answer in her silent plea.

  The buzzing sound became louder as the vibrations moved it off the rug and onto the timber floor. They both turned and caught sight of Sofie’s brand new, shiny vibrator. It slowly spun on its axis, just like the game, spin the bottle. She wished it was something as ordinary as that. But no, the batteries would have to run out before it stopped … hours later. Her toy kept spinning, its head pointing outward, rabbit ears trembling, and the little diamantes at the base glinting in the sun.

  ‘Oh fuck,’ Sofie whispered, shutting her eyes tight and hiding her face behind her hands.

  ‘Careful everyone!’ Bruce yelled. ‘I can hear buzzing, probably a live wire somewhere. Rock! Hey, Rock!’ Bruce was hollering from some distance away, thank God.

  Desperate, Sofie swung around, grabbing Brock’s shirt she pulled him down to her face and urgently whispered, ‘Do something!’

  His eyes captured hers; though weak with fear, she didn’t miss his wordless communication, trust me. He eased her grip from his shirt, holding her hands close to his chest, turned his head and called out to Bruce. ‘Get everyone to move way back, there might’ve been a gas bottle delivery this morning, left on the porch!’

  ‘Shit!’ Bruce yelled back, and immediately gave out the orders.

  Shouts and cries came from the onlookers, who ran to the other side of the road and further back to the small park adjacent to Sofie’s house.

  ‘I’ll just go and …’ Sofie started to move.

  Brock’s hands slid up to hold her shoulders, and peering into her face he ordered, ‘Stay here.’

  Mortified, she cried out, ‘No—no! You can’t!’

  ‘Sis—Sis!’ Sofie turned to see her sister, Jennifer, and her daughter, Claudia, arriving. Jennifer screamed, ‘Get away from there!’

  ‘Mum!’ Claudia screeched, ‘You’re scaring the shit out of me!’

  Sofie’s attention swung from Brock’s disappearing broad shoulders to her daughter and sister and back again. Fear and embarrassment made her feel sick. She tried to see what Brock was doing through the smoke and dust, but it was useless.

  ‘Smoke!’ she squealed. ‘Fuck!’ He was risking his life for her reputation, and what would he think when he picked it up? He’d think she was a needy sex addict nympho!

  A hand clamped around her arm and Jennifer hauled her away. Claudia’s arms went around her as well, and they both shuffled her backwards, away from imminent danger.

  A small explosion followed by a fire started in the debris under the truck, and more smoke billowed out.

  ‘Brock,’ Sofie whispered, her body shaking.

  The town’s firemen were on it, and in a flash foam spewed and spread like a big white cloud under the truck. Some of the spectators mumbled their approval, probably disappointed there wasn’t going to be a huge explosion, while others applauded and shouted, ‘Yay, onya, Bruce! Well done!’

  Sofie drew Claudia in close and stroked her back to ease the shock that made her daughter’s body tremble. Jennifer came in on the other side and together they held onto Claudia. After a few minutes, Sofie leaned forward, distressed to see her daughter’s pallid face and silent tears trickling down to drop off her chin.

  ‘Our home …’ Claudia whispered, then, her voice getting stronger, ‘Gone!’ Shaking with anger, she cried out, ‘Who does shit like this, who?!’

  ‘Honey …’ Sofie began and cupped Claudia’s face to get her full attention. ‘We can put it all back together again. It’ll be as good as new.’

  ‘What?’ Jennifer muttered in the background. ‘It’s a pile of sticks and broken tiles.’

  Sofie poked her sister and through clenched teeth snapped, ‘That’s not helpful, Jen.’

  Claudia’s body went rigid and Sofie knew from experience that full-blown rage was setting in. ‘What sort of fucking idiot drives into a person’s home,’ her sweet, enraged daughter hissed.

  ‘He obviously lost control, maybe a tyre blew.’ Sofie shrugged, and rubbed Claudia’s arms, soothingly. ‘Who knows, but I’m sure someone will find out.’

  ‘They bloody better.’ Claudia sniffed, then wiped the tears off her face with the sleeve of her oversized jumper.

  It was devastating their house was gone, but more importantly, Sofie was utterly relieved no one was hurt. Holding onto her sister and daughter, she waited for Brock …and waited. He was taking far too long and Sofie was beginning to panic.

  ‘For shit’s sake, where is he?’ Sofie muttered, unable to hold herself in check any longer and squeezing Jennifer’s hand.

  ‘Ouch, Sofe, that hurts,’ Jennifer complained. ‘What’s Rock doing in there anyway?’ Her tone more a statement than a question.

  Eyes not leaving the scene, Sofie rubbed Jennifer’s hand, mumbling, ‘Sorry, Sis.’

  Claudia called out, ‘Who’s that coming from where our house used to be? Maybe it’s not so bad.’

  Through the smoke, dust and piles of white froth, Brock jogged and leapt over rubble towards them, with a grace she never thought possible coming from a man with his build, and he made it look so easy.

  ‘Crikey,’ Jennifer whispered, ‘it’s almost worth having your house destroyed just to see this amazing man do anything.’

  ‘Yeah …’ Sofie said on a sigh, but the reason he went there in the first place was right there, somewhere. On his person? In the bag? The closer Brock came the harder she gripped Jennifer’s arm. Fear and embarrassment took hold, making her feel physically sick.

  Claudia sniffed, hiccoughed, and muttered, ‘What’re you talking about? He’s old—like ancient.’

  Consumed with only two things, no, make that three things, Sofie had no comeback. Claudia was recovering, sort of, and Brock was safely out of the remains of her house. But where the hell was her toy?

  ‘G’day, Jen, Claudia,’ Brock said, giving all three a tentative smile. His eyes, red and watering from the smoke and dust, zoned in on Sofie, and managed to convey that everything was fine, in the bag so to speak.

  Relief flooded her—had she not been hanging onto two other women she would’ve sagged to the pavement. She took a few deep breaths and focused on Brock, giving him surreptitious expressions and eye movement, trying to get him to understand her deep, deep gratitude. Then something very worrying caught Sofie’s attention and stopped her from continuing her loony behaviour. Oh God, Brock was shaking. Well, of course he was, she rationalised, the man just ran through hellfire to save her reputation. Nevertheless, somewhere in the back of her mind, it struck her that his manner was at odds with the man she, and the whole town, knew. His brow dripped with perspiration and his hands trembled. Perhaps the remains of their house wasn’t so stable after all.

  ‘See what I mean?’ Claudia whispered, ‘He’s ancient.’

  Brock shrugged off a large gym bag strapped to his back and handed it to Sofie. ‘Managed to gather a few of your things. Don’t know if they’re useful, just grabbed what I could see.’

  Claudia moved away and started towards the remains of their home.

  ‘Where’re you going?’ Brock stuck his big hand out and latched onto Claudia’s upper arm.

  ‘I have to get to my room, collect my stuff. I can go around the back.’

  ‘It’s not safe.’ Brock pulled her back, and Claudia gave him her best evil glare, which had no effect on him at all. Head dipped down, and looking past his brows, Brock glared back at her like only an ex-SAS officer and officer of the law could when dealing with a rebellious, moody teenager. He pointed his finger at her, quickly cast an eye over at Sofie and Jennifer, and then back at Claudia to drive his point home to all of them. ‘You don’t go anywhere near the house. The back roof could collapse on your head. Your head will meet your shoulders, you’ll be in a wheelchair, fed through a
tube. Maybe tomorrow we’ll see if you can go in, but definitely not alone.’ Eyeballing Claudia, he leaned in closer, ‘Am I clear?’

  Claudia stomped back to her mother, and if looks could kill, Brock would’ve bled from lacerations all over his body. With a belligerent grunt, Claudia folded her arms.

  Sofie’s eyes darted from one to the other. And there went any hope of ever having a relationship with Brock ‘The Rock’ Stewart. She shouldered her bag. ‘Thank you so much, Brock. I hope I can repay you somehow?’

  ‘No need for that,’ he said, frowning.

  His tone confused her. Was he unhappy with her, or was it because he’d just had to deal with a teenager who had a death-wish? After all the tender holding, understanding and care, now this—this ‘no need’ bullshit. Mortified and on the verge of tears, she managed to say, ‘Well, thank you anyway.’

  ‘Brock, come by for dinner,’ Jennifer demanded, with a smile. ‘I insist. Won’t take no for answer. See you at seven, tonight.’ She pushed herself in between Sofie and Claudia, wrapped her arms around them and strode off.

  ‘Sorry, can’t, on duty.’ he called after them.

  ‘I don’t know why you bothered. Even off duty he’d never turn up,’ Sofie muttered, feeling even more miserable. ‘Anyway, that’s it, I’m over it. Call the invitation off, Jen. I’m not interested anymore.’

  ‘Sofe, that man just risked his life to get you a few clothes.’

  ‘Where were you when I offered to repay him somehow, and was thoroughly knocked back?’

  ‘I took that as, it was his pleasure to help you, and to repay him for doing that would be an insult!’

  ‘Well, I didn’t mean it that way,’ Sofie protested. ‘The man gives me conflicting messages all the time.’

  Claudia grunted her disapproval. After all, he was ‘ancient’.

  Disbelief filled Jennifer’s face. ‘Oh, Sis, that’s not what he meant at all. Men aren’t devious like that. Couldn’t you see it, he thinks you’re gorgeous, inside and out. I don’t know what his problem is, what’s stopping him from making a move, but I tell you what, it’s something pretty major!’

  ‘He still won’t come for dinner,’ Sofie mumbled irately.

  ‘If he doesn’t, I’ve got backup plans.’

  ‘If what you say is true, I shouldn’t need backup plans. He just should grow a pair,’ Sofie complained.

  ‘Mum,’ Claudia began sweetly, giving Sofie a warm fuzzy feeling of daughterly love. But then she continued, throwing a little sassy salt on her mother’s wounds. ‘It was a huge shock. And sure we lost a house, but think about it, really the place was a nightmare, we freeze every night, and I bet we’ll bake in the summer. We’ll be sleeping out on the back lawn, to cool off. And then the bugs’ll come visit, and moths and shit.’ She took a breath and went on, ‘You could build something brand new, not all cottagey and niminy-piminy. Jeez, get with it, Mum.’

  Well that was one hell of a swift turnaround.

  ‘I agree,’ Jennifer put in. ‘Don’t think of this as a disaster, think of it as a new beginning. A chance to build an ecologically friendly home that won’t cost the earth to live in.’

  ‘Oh, and what do I do in the meantime?’

  ‘Ooh.’ Taking umbrage Jennifer thumped Sofie’s arm. ‘Seeing as you’re in shock, I’ll let that slide, but it’s not like you have nowhere to live, Sofe! Veronica’s belongs to all of us.’

  ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.’

  ‘There you go again!’

  ‘What did I say now?!’ Sofie said, voice rising.

  ‘Mum, you sound like Jennifer’s giving you a handout. Like a friend, not family!’

  ‘Oh shit, I did, didn’t I? Sorry, Jen.’ Sofie stopped and kissed her sister on the cheek. ‘My house is gone, let me get over the shock.’

  ‘Yeah, all right.’ Jennifer gave her a playful shove.

  They entered Tumble Creek town centre. Sofie never tired of the beautiful Edwardian buildings, all of them kept in pristine condition. It was great for tourism, and it showed that the occupants had pride in their shops and businesses. Since their restaurant, Veronica’s, had opened and begun to get a name for its superb menu, patrons were coming all the way from Sydney to dine, spend a weekend, sightsee through town, and visit the local wineries.

  Now her Edwardian home was gone. And though Claudia’s idea of a new house was a positive one, Sofie would miss the period features and soft ambience of their older home.

  She broke the uneasy silence. ‘There’s supposed to be a reason for shit that happens. I can’t wait to see what it is.’ She shoved curls off her forehead. ‘I have to ring my insurance people, they’ll want to send out an assessor, and they’ll probably tell me there’s nothing wrong with half a house and a bedroom and living room with no walls and no roof.’

  Jennifer opened the door to Veronica’s and pushed Sofie inside. ‘Go stand near the fire for a while, I’ll get you a hot toddy.’

  Claudia kissed Sofie on the cheek and followed her aunt into the restaurant’s kitchen. Sofie pulled a comfy armchair closer to the open fire and rummaged in the gym bag. Feeling around, she found what she was looking for, neatly wrapped in one of her T-shirts. Heart pounding that Brock, the man she secretly wanted to strip naked, and fool around with—anywhere—had held her vibrator in his big masculine hands.

  She gave a long drawn-out sigh and sat, gazing into the flames, wondering what she should do about her house. She didn’t get very far: Brock and everything about him kept invading her thoughts. Why was he so solicitous, yet when it came to the crunch, he backed off? ‘Not a fan of you naked in front of other men.’ So what! She wasn’t a fan of his dithering.

  Well, fuck hot and cold men and their quiet machismo!

  ***

  Brock shook his head, but couldn’t erase the beginnings of a grin as he strode to his car. Sweet, cute, Sofie Dove has a sex toy and—

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Takumi’s deep voice cut in. His fresh young recruit, killer body and looks to match, who everyone called Tak, was leaning against Brock’s Ford Ranger, arms folded in a relaxed stance. Tak had grown up in Tumble Creek, but spent time in Japan with his grandparents where he’d studied jujitsu, among other martial arts. He was lethal. Had his father Trevor Edward’s powerful build and his Japanese mother Mei’s colouring. The girls in town lost the power of speech anytime he was around. Thankfully, none of it went to his head.

  ‘Nothin’.’ Brock wiped the smile off his face and got down to business. ‘Any news on the driver?’

  ‘The truck’s owner says he was inside the petrol station paying for his fuel, when someone took off with his truck. He couldn’t see who was behind the wheel, but called it in straightaway, and he’s not lying. The truck was listed as stolen at eight this morning.’

  ‘You figure out what happened?’ He wanted to hear this ‘accident’ was because of a blowout, failed brakes, swerving to miss a pedestrian, or someone’s dog … anything unavoidable, accidental. But his gut was telling him that was bullshit; still, he could hope.

  Takumi clenched his teeth, not happy, Brock noted.

  Christ, what now?

  ‘You gonna make me wait all day?’ Brock pushed.

  ‘Nope. Just from a quick look over the truck, there’s no faulty steering. Brakes are good and so are the tyres. The driver has fled the scene, uninjured I reckon. There’s no blood to suggest he’s walking around half loopy, but I could be wrong, for all we know, he could have an almighty lump on his head. Also, no one has been admitted to hospital with a dicky heart, a seizure, or a coughing fit. What I’m not wrong about is, this may have been deliberate.’ Tak nodded and pushed himself off the car. ‘What’re you doing here anyway? It’s your day off.’

  ‘Helping a friend. It’s Sofie Dove’s house.’ Brock inclined his head, eyes narrowed, studying Takumi’s face, and asked, ‘What makes you think it was planned?’

  ‘Yeah, I know it’s Sofie’s.’ Takumi peered at him, brown
almond eyes alert. ‘Shit! Have you been seeing each other? And do you have enemies? Does Sofie have a stalker? Are you seeing her?’ he repeated.

  ‘Jesus, Tak. No to all of that.’

  ‘Well, fuck,’ Takumi whispered roughly, ‘every time you two get close, global warming takes a hit. I don’t know much about Sofie’s background and only a bit of yours, but hell, you two are missing out.’

  Brock pointedly ignored his partner’s romantic ideas. ‘Why do you think it was planned?’ he ground out.

  ‘No skid marks to indicate the driver tried to brake or swerve. A neighbour said the truck wasn’t speeding. He just ploughed straight into the garden, turning at the last minute to do maximum damage to the house. And that’s how I see it as well.’

  ‘Hmm … Sofie is …’ Brock mumbled, not finishing what he was about to say; it would only give Takumi more fuel to his already fertile mind.

  Too late, mischief shone in his partner’s eyes, and then he asked again, ‘What’s Sofie to you? It’s police business, you know.’

  ‘Yeah right, not the part you’re asking about. I repeat, Sofie’s a friend, there’s nothing going on.’

  ‘Well, how stupid are you? Anyone with half a brain can see she’d have you in a flash,’ he chuckled, ‘though God only knows why, you walk around with a pole up your arse most of the time.’

  ‘Watch your mouth, Tak!’

  ‘You’re off duty, I can say what I want and what you need to hear … old man.’ Takumi laughed, took a boxer’s stance and feigned a few air punches.

  Brock put his dinner-plate hand on Takumi’s face and shoved, hard enough for the other man to stumble back.

  ‘Hey, I wasn’t ready.’

  ‘Shut up, Tak. Any news on Britt Ingesson?’

  In a blink, Takumi u-turned from teasing to serious. He straightened up and, face a deadly mask, clipped, ‘No.’

  Obviously Brock had hit a sore point. He sighed. ‘Sorry, mate, she’ll turn up, and wonder what all the fuss is about.’