The Pact

by Brenna Darcy

  Hesitant to leave so soon, Flic indulged in an ice cream from Simmo’s Ice Creamery, then decided to do the tourist thing and walk the kilometre long jetty Busselton was famous for.

  With the sun on her back and movement of ocean beneath the planks she walked on, Flic wished she’d thought to bring Ellie here. She would have loved to watch the fish undisturbed in their natural environment through the glass bottom observatory at the end of the jetty. Flic’s initial desire to walk the distance vanished.

  Reaching the halfway point Flic stopped and gazed out over the water. Somewhere along the way her life seemed to have taken a wrong turn. Panic began to form in the pit of her gut and the ice cream she’d consumed threatened to surface. In an evening the skeleton had been ripped from the core of her existence, and her carefully mapped out life had become nothing more than a scrambled mess of wrong choices. She’d been so rigid in her views, believing the future she planned was invincible. Having made no room for disaster. And, now, she was barely holding her life together. Not knowing which way to turn, or what choice was the right one, living in the moment was all she could do until she regained clarity and a sense of direction.

  Finding an empty bench she pulled the new journal from her bag. Flic figured if she could devote as much energy into writing as she did dwelling, it’d be a more constructive use of time.

  Her handwriting began neat, as she didn’t want to graffiti the crisp white pages, until her subconscious took over and her care factor evaporated. Drawing upon her current emotional state, she worked on creating a world she’d prefer to be a part of, with characters worthy of love and happy endings.

  The breeze whipped across the water. She shivered, as the chilled air interrupted her creative flow. Flic sat up straight and arched her aching back. She dropped her pencil back into her bag, stretched her fingers and rotated her wrist trying to rid her hand of a cramp from gripping her pencil to tight.

  Satisfied with her progress, she gathered her belongings and walked back along the jetty to her car, ready for a change of scenery and the next part of her new adventure. For the first time since the accident she’d managed to focus on something other than what her life lacked. Writing gave her the confidence to enjoy the unknown and for all it brought to the surface.

  Less than an hours drive to Margaret River allowed Flic plenty of time to arrive and unload before dark.

  Fresh sea air, combined with being couped up for so long, stimulated exhaustion. Unpacking was the last thing she felt like doing so late in the day, but the time spent by the beach was exactly what she needed, even if it did delay her arrival.

  Already Flic felt more at ease, being away from constant reminders. Her life in the city now like a television series she wasn’t currently appearing in.

  The car park was deserted, as Flic pulled into the visitor bay, alongside the reception, of the Margaret’s Forest Hotel. Other guests were no doubted out exploring the beaches or many wineries the region had on offer.

  After finalising details of her reservation, Stacey, the hotel assistant, showed Flic to her temporary home.

  “This place is beautiful,” Flic said, looking around at tidy gardens and modern, well maintained apartment buildings.

  “Thanks. Dad renovated. Each apartment has its own courtyard and barbeque area out the back. They’re fitted with the latest technology, too—Internet, docking stations and stuff.”

  Flic smiled. She’d been hesitant to book for an entire month without knowing the condition of the place. Images on the Internet were rarely a reliable source of information, but from what she’d seen the ratings and comments, left by other guests, appeared true.

  Unlocking the front door, Flic was relieved to see the room was as appealing as the rest of the place. Neutral decor and spacious setting was a welcoming sight.

  “This is perfect.” The sense of relief was a little overwhelming. Flic glanced over her shoulder so Stacey didn’t witness the tears that threatened to spill.

  “Will you be staying in town for long?”

  Stacey would’ve seen the full month booking, so Flic guessed she was referring to beyond the reservation.

  “I’m not sure yet, but I hope so.”

  “It’s a nice place, relaxed and casual most of the time. Will you be looking for a job whilst you’re here?”

  “Yes, sadly, I’d enjoy spending the rest of my life in a hut by the beach, eating cheese on crackers and sipping delectable wines, but unfortunately not possible.”

  Stacey laughed. “You’ll fit in just fine around here. I think we all move with much the same hope—you know to be beach bums—but never turns out that way, especially with bills to pay and the need to eat. We end up running places like this.” Stacey gestured with her arms, indicating the hotel. “And we hardly get time to step foot on the sand let alone into the surf.”

  Flic liked Stacey immediately. She was warm and friendly, a refreshing welcome to the town.

  “Anyways, I’ll let you get settled. Call out if you need help with anything.”

  “Thanks,” Flic said, dropping her handbag on one of the chairs surrounding the small dining table.

  “Oh, by the way, if you want a great place to go for dinner, Mim’s Restaurant is a favourite, and she’s looking for a waitress if you’re interested. She’s lovely and her place is so cute.”

  “I’ll check it out. Thanks.”

  Stacey left, and after another quick glance around, Flic headed back to the car and began the huge task of unloading. There looked to be a lot now that she had to drag it inside, but it was too late to change her mind.

  It didn’t take as long as she thought, but by the time she finished her back ached, as if she’d moved mountains. After making herself a cup of tea, Flic sat on the couch and phoned her mother. Guilt threatened, no doubt she’d be panicking by now, not knowing of Flic’s decision to stop along the way.

  Her mother picked up on the second ring. “I’ve been so worried, what happened?”

  “Hi Mum. I stopped off in Busselton for the afternoon. Sorry, I guess, I lost track of time.” The trip of three hours had taken her twelve, after unloading the car.

  “That’s okay, so long as you’re safe.”

  The surge of guilt lingered.

  “Is the hotel alright?”

  “It’s beautiful. The photos didn’t do it justice—thank you.” They didn’t always see eye-to-eye, and drove each other insane at times, but she knew her mother loved her all the same.

  “Oh good, you’re welcome. You sound tired, I’ll let you unpack.” She paused. “I miss you already.”

  “I miss you, too.” The familiarity and safety of her mother’s home had been a comfort to her when she most needed it. Now, being on her own was something she’d have to get used to, treating each day as day one and bringing with it a fresh start. Plans for her future needed consideration, but would have to wait until she settled into her own place.

  Stepping into the shower, the pressure of the hot water soothed her aching limbs, as would a massage. In one day she’d done more exercise than she had in months. Her usual workout being the walk from her room to the coffee pot, or the unavoidable visits to the bathroom. Occasionally she ventured out as far as the letterbox to fetch the mail—exercise was yet another aspect of her life in need of attention.

  Turning the taps off Flic stepped out of the shower to dry herself, the towels large and soft. Attention to detail certainly hadn’t been overlooked, for which she was grateful, the extra touch of luxury not unlike being at home.

  Finding a nightie in the first case she opened was a lucky fluke. She slipped it over her head before climbing between crisp clean sheets, into the cloud that was her bed.

  Too tired to bother with anything but rest, Mim’s Restaurant and dinner would have to wait. The thought of dining alone didn’t thrill her, something she hadn’t considered before. Dread, like a rapid growing cyst, built in the pit of her gut. Perhaps she wasn’t cut out for living alone after al
l. Her relocation plan supported many positives, but with more flaws than she’d anticipated. No doubt she was in for an adventure, even if not all parts were going to be pleasant.

  Dining scenarios played over in her mind. Did others pay attention to the lone diners and feel sorry for them? Writing a book, even more appealing, the perfect excuse not to look up from the meal on her plate. People often worked during their lunch break, but what about dinner?

  Too exhausted to think about it anymore, she began to doze.

  Chapter Three

  FLIC WOKE TO THE SUN beaming through the shutters she’d left open the previous night. Despite sitting for most of the day before, fatigue had set in and offered a solid nights rest.

  Whether a result of the salty sea air or the extra hours of sleep she felt refreshed and energetic, ready for the day ahead.

  Flic rolled away from the glare of the morning sun and took in her surroundings. The room was more homely than she’d expected. The modern facilities and luxurious décor appealing enough to entice guests to extend their stay or to ensure they returned, should they be in the area again. The colour scheme, although it reminded her of the house she’d shared with Jason, suited her taste, soft dove grey and white, with a splash of turquoise blue.

  The memory of the home she once loved was no less painful four hours away as it was whilst she was living at her mothers. The temptation to curl up and succumb to the misery she entertained, as dictator of her reclusive life for the past eight months, was overwhelming. However, her determination to make a fresh start didn’t allow for wallowing in self-pity.

  Climbing off the bed, Flic padded over to the glass walled bathroom she hadn’t given any thought to, even whilst showering the previous night. She imagined couples might appreciate the sexy feature. To her, the intimate suggestion was another reminder of being alone. Showering with a man no longer held any appeal. The sensual design wasted on her.

  No innocent who was seeking happiness in love deserved the empty emotionless pit she’ had to offer. Love and intimacy was not something Flic took lightly, but trust had to come first. A relationship without it wouldn’t work, so she had no intention of getting close to anyone again. Besides, she needed to rediscover who she was without a man overshadowing her.

  Pushing the thought aside, she turned the tap to hot, slid her nightie off and stepped under the blast of hot water. If only the pressure was enough to strip the loneliness away, to be swallowed and trapped by the drain, unable to resurface.

  She shuddered. If she didn’t get a grip, like the shower never intended for one, she would remain empty, surrounded by a glass wall.

  Taking a deep breath she invited the lightness she’d woken with to return—an instant relief from the darkness that all too easily invaded her.

  With the intention of driving to the beach, later, she slipped a sundress over a bright blue bikini. A tan wouldn’t go astray. Her lily white skin was the result of months spent hibernating in her bedroom.

  Her first mission was to enquire about the waitress job Stacey had mentioned the day before. Glancing in the mirror she wasn’t surprised that the burst of freshness hadn’t reached the outer layers. Nothing a touch of makeup couldn’t fix.

  Finding her makeup in her suitcase wasn’t so easy as locating her nightie, but after a lot of rummaging she found the small case. Cosmetics weren’t really her thing, but there was no way anyone would consider her for a job with the way she looked, at least not without checking for a pulse.

  With enough products to highlight her features, Flic felt more confident, as if wearing a mask that camouflaged her true self.

  She shoved a beach towel into the oversized tote bag where she also stashed her writing book and pencil, grabbed her sunglasses and left the room.

  In hope that Mim’s Restaurant was within walking distance, Flic set out on foot. Close, familiar, and quaint suited her fine of which Margaret River had plenty on offer. A nurturing country town mentality, without the hick and red dust, was exactly what she needed.

  Walking up the main street she enjoyed the sun on her exposed skin. The breeze was enough to cool from hot to pleasant.

  As Mim’s Restaurant came into view, Flic vaguely remembered passing it the day before. The alternative looking stone house was tucked behind a neat cottage garden. Stacey’s description of quaint summed it up perfectly. Herbs hung in mismatched pots from exposed veranda rafters above wooden outdoor settings. A neatly stacked woodpile and more potted colour than floats in a carnival, lined the buildings edge. The sweet floral scent, mixed with herbs, wafted as she crossed the street to stand in front of the path that led the way to the entry.

  Intrigued, she followed the path, as a tall slim woman, who looked to be in her mid-fifties, stepped out of the front door with a watering-can in hand and apron around her waist.

  She smiled upon spotting Flic. “Hi sweet, if you’re quick you’ll catch Tim before he closes the kitchen for the morning, he’ll whip you up something special, I’m sure.”

  Flic smiled back. If this was Mim, she liked her already. “That’d be great, thanks. Are you Mim? I was hoping I could speak with you, or organise a more convenient time.”

  Mim smiled. “Breakfast for two it shall be. Gives me an excuse to sit a while.” Setting her watering-can down she walked into the restaurant and held the door open for Flic to follow.

  Inside, many tables were occupied with customers chatting to each other between mouthfuls. The rustic interior of wood and stone gave an earthy, soulful vibe that resonated with Flic immediately. The room was brightly lit with crisp white tablecloths and silver cutlery neatly set on vacant tables. Leading her to a table at the front of the restaurant Mim gestured for her to take the seat with her back to the rest of the room, and handed her the menu.

  “Can I get you a cup of tea or coffee?”

  “Coffee would be lovely, thanks.”

  Mim left her to browse the extensive selection, all of which looked appealing. Having skipped dinner the night before, she was famished.

  Setting two cups of steaming coffee on the table, Mim pulled a note pad from her apron ready for Flic’s order.

  “I’ll have the pancakes with seasonal berries and maple syrup, please.”

  “Aahh good choice, I’ll have the same. Excuse me a moment.” Mim appeared to contain the energy of a freshly charged battery.

  She did appear light on staff, although seemed to manage well enough on her own. The restaurant didn’t seem overly busy, at least not at that moment.

  Mim returned, no longer wearing her apron, and slid into the chair opposite. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit on this side, easier to see if I’m needed.”

  “Not at all, I’m Flic by the way.”

  “Oh, of course. Flic? Short for Felicity I assume.”

  She nodded.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here so soon, to tell you the truth.”

  Taken aback, Flic frowned.

  “Oh don’t worry, no premonitions here.” Mim tapped the side of her head. “Stacey from the hotel was in this morning and mentioned you might stop by. Nice girl, but spreads news faster than a fax.”

  Even if the job didn’t work out, this piece of information was appreciated.

  “She’s harmless, a talker is all—don’t worry, wouldn’t spread private business, only general news.” She paused, as if she’d said too much. “So, she tells me you’re looking for work?”

  “Yes, she mentioned you might be hiring?”

  “Only the weekend shift, I’m afraid—our busiest nights, as you can imagine. Not a great shift if you want a social life though.”

  “That suits me perfectly.” At least she’d have a good excuse not to be social.

  “On occasions when someone is sick I may offer extra shifts, if I can’t handle the place myself. I’m not precious so if you need more hours and want to pick up work elsewhere, that’s fine. Have you any experience?”

  Flic nodded. “I worked at a restaurant i
n Guildford, whilst I was studying.”

  “Good enough for me.”

  A bell rang.

  “That’d be our breakfast, excuse me.” Mim was off again.

  Flic pondered the gossip issue. It was going to take some getting used to, the small town grape vine humming with harmless chitchat about her. No doubt it’d continue until someone else moved in, and curiosity shifted.

  Mim returned with identical plates of food that looked as though they’d been prepared for an advertisement.

  “Wow, this looks too good to eat.”

  “Doesn’t it. Tim’s a food artist and the best chef in town. You’ll see I don’t exaggerate.”

  Mim wasn’t pushy and didn’t pry with too many questions. When asked if she was here alone, or with a partner, Flic didn’t even flinch as she replied.

  Mim was easy to talk with. Having lived in the area for all of her life she knew the locals and practically everything about the town.

  With a full stomach, and trial for a job beginning that evening, Flic was delighted with her progress, and it wasn’t even lunchtime. Mim’s weekday waitress was sick, so Flic’s arrival was convenient for them both—an immediate start for her and help for Mim who was in a bind.

  Not having to be back at the restaurant until five allowed Flic plenty of time to follow the walk trail to the river before heading back to the hotel to change.

  The rainforest either side of the pathway was thick and green, so different from the usual eucalypt grey of the West Australian bush. Here the fern trees grew wild, woven around massive Karris, so large Flic would struggle to encircle the trunk, if wrapping her arms around was even possible at all. Moss grew on felled trees and multi coloured fungi thrived at its base. The majesty of nature was breathtaking. Around each corner a little nook with a bench, or tree stump stools—the perfect place to sit and write. Here, Flic barely needed an imagination, the perfect world away from the world, no creativity needed. How she’d tear herself away from the tranquillity of her setting long enough to write she didn’t know, but it was relaxing all the same.