by C.J Duggan
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I know I said Ellie usually got over things, but this time was different.
The afternoon shift was tense and awkward as my attempts at small talk with her, let alone apologise, were met with stony silence. Any time our paths crossed in the restaurant, Ellie made a not-too-subtle attempt to avoid me all together. In the evening, when I made my way into the kitchen, I felt sick at the thought of enduring more of the same cold treatment.
I deserved it, I knew that, but it didn't mean I had to like it.
Laughter echoed out from the kitchen as I pushed my way through the swinging kitchen door. Ellie, Rosanna and Amy stood around the prep area. I was met with a casual 'hello' from Rosanna and Amy. Ellie's laughter dried up and her smile dropped at the sight of me. She pushed her shoulders back and with a casual flick of her pony tail, gathered her apron and left the kitchen without a word.
"What's going on between you two?" Amy frowned.
"Long story." I sighed. It wasn't really that long; I just didn't want to talk about it with the likes of Amy and Rosanna. Amy shrugged and continued her conversation with Rosanna. I pulled my rings off and dropped them into my apron pockets, glancing wearily at the kitchen clock - 5:55pm; it was going to be a long, long shift.
At least my fallout with Ellie took my mind off other things, the things that really troubled me. It was the only positive point I could take from the drama. I looked blankly at the docket whose table number I had forgotten to write down; Christ, I couldn't even remember who I'd served. This mistake wasn't an isolated incident tonight. As soon as I thought I was getting my shit together at work, I was back to making stupid mistakes, like the good old days. I walked from the restaurant into the bar trying to jog my memory. Was the salmon for that old guy with the comb over? How about this Lamb Rogan Josh; had that lady in the leopard print ordered it? Had I served her? I had no idea. Shit! I didn't fancy being yelled at by Rosanna, not tonight. I moved towards the poolroom and frowned at the docket, hoping if I stared at it hard enough, it would jolt my memory.
But it didn't. Instead, my body was jolted as I slammed into what felt like a brick wall. Knocking me off balance, I juggled the plates precariously.
Oh no, oh no, don't drop them, oh no ?
A pair of hands reached out to steady me.
"Whoa, look out!" Toby held me still for a moment until I seemed to have my balance again.
I didn't drop them, thank God I didn't drop them.
He grinned down at me. "You okay?"
I had been so distracted I hadn't even heard the front bar door open, or seen the Onslow Boys walk in, until I had collided with one. Sean and Stan were behind Toby, trying not to laugh. My face flushed.
"Sorry, I was in the zone." I stepped from his grasp, the small space in front of the door seemed claustrophobic all of a sudden; Toby's hands dropped but his touch had burned into my skin.
"Stop manhandling the staff, Tobias," Sean muttered into Toby's ear as he pushed passed Toby who still blocked the front door. Stan followed but didn't contribute. I guess Ellie must have told him what we were fighting about. What I'd said.
"Rough night?" Toby asked.
"Yeah, I just wish it would be over already."
"So I guess the last thing you want to do is go for a drive after work?"
"What?" I said, in perhaps a too high-pitched voice.
"Did you want to go for drive," he repeated, "with me?"
I tried not to smile too widely. "Um, yeah sure."
He nodded, a lopsided tilt to his mouth. "Well, you know where to find me."
He weaved his way through the poolroom, his skin darkened by his day fishing in the sun. He must have gone home and changed - now he wore a navy T with khaki cargos and boat shoes. He didn't smell like fish, but the Cool Water aftershave I had eyed in his console, it was my favourite smell in the whole world now, much more appealing than cooking oil and garlic bread which infused into my clothes each night. Seeing Toby (or rather, colliding with Toby) had lifted my spirits, and the thought of leaving here with him after work made my stomach flip in excitement. It was an unexpected delight in what I had thought would be a night from hell. Now the night couldn't end early enough, but for a whole other reason. And just as I pushed my way back into the kitchen it came to me!
"Table number 29!"
As Ellie and I filled out our time cards in silence, Chris poked his head into the restaurant bar, twirling the hotel keys around his finger. "You girls staying for lock-in?"
Ellie waited for me to answer first.
"No, I'm going to head out."
Ellie said, "Then I'll stay." Another not-too-subtle jab; Chris shrugged and headed out back.
I went to get my things.
"What, you're not going to stay to cross Chris off your list?" Ellie said. They were the first words she'd uttered to me all night.
"Ellie, look, I ?"
"Or is it Ringer's turn tonight?"
"Ellie, I'm sorry I said that."
"Yeah, well in future, it's best not to say anything at all. Shouldn't be too hard, you seem really good at it now."
Ellie filled out the last of her hours and spiked them near the till, without so much as a backwards glance. I sighed and leaned on the restaurant bar, cupping my forehead in my hands. A dull ache had slowly formed in my head over the last few hours, and I wished it would just stop so I could think straight. As soon as I got home to lie in the darkness, staring at the shadows on my ceiling, I knew I would think of a million clever things to say, an amazing, award winner of a speech that would have won Ellie over and made us best friends again. But right now, I had nothing.
"Are you meditating?"
I jumped and spotted Toby standing over my shoulder. Chris must have flicked the main switch off because the restaurant was dark. With my eyes closed, I hadn't even noticed, which added to my shock when I opened my eyes to see the shady figure next to me.
I clutched at my heart. "You're like creeping Jesus."
He laughed. "Sorry."
I spiked my time card with a sigh. "Can we get out of here?"
"Your chariot awaits."
"In the form of a blue Ford ute?" I curved my brow.
"But of course," he said in an over-the-top French accent.
"Sacre blur, bad accent alert!"
"Wow," he said, "Le rude?"
"Le sorry?"
"Le hurt." Toby clutched his heart.
"What can I do to soothe your shattered ego?"
Toby drummed his chin thoughtfully, pacing around me. He stopped just near enough to whisper in my ear.
"Le kiss?" He circled his arms around my waist, and I couldn't help but giggle. The feeling of being hidden in the dark with Toby, as if nothing had changed, made my heart swell with joy, until a flash of last night with Sean came to mind and I felt the waves of guilt wipe the smile from my face.
"How's about le hurry up, so I can le lock up, Peppi Le Piu."
We both flinched at the sound of Chris's voice right by us.
He flicked on the light with a sigh. "I trust you two love birds will be making a back exit?"
Toby scratched the back of his neck and smirked; Chris attempted a serious expression, but he couldn't pull it off. He unlocked the beer garden door, and we made a quick escape.
"Speaking French, Tobias?" Chris said. "Must be love?" He groaned out the last word as Toby sucker punched him playfully in the ribs as he passed, the way it seemed even grown boys do.
As Toby and I weaved our way carefully around the tables and patio heaters in the unlit beer garden, he clasped my hand from behind and tugged me into him. I giggled giddily as he pulled me into an even darker, secluded alcove. I was so close against him, I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face.
"What do you know? This is where it all began," he said.
"Began?"
"This is exactly where I was when I wanted to kiss you," he whispered, his lips brushing along my neck causing me
to melt under his touch. "So bad."
I breathed deeply trying to blink my way out of my daze when I realised we were standing where the DJ, fairy lights and black velvet curtain had been the night of the disco.
"Except this time there's no drunk netballer squawking at us," I teased.
"I wouldn't care if the seven horseman of the Apocalypse charged through the garden right now, nothing's gonna stop me from doing this." He leaned down and captured my lips with tenderness, a completely perfect kiss, like it always was. I lifted myself on the tips of my toes to meet him. His hands fisted into my hair, making no apologies as his kisses intensified, became more forceful. He wasn't back with Angela. I'd been so wrong. He still wanted me. It wasn't a mistake; he didn't regret that night at all. Toby Morrison wanted me.
