Bonjour Cherie (8 page)

‘Sure, I'll think about it.' We chatted for a few minutes longer, Lauren trying to make up for being the overbearing sister.

When she hung up, I was feeling worse than ever. Yet again my sister had managed to make me feel like a failure, while trying to ‘motivate' me. I turned off the DVD player and switched off the lights. It was time for bed and the end of what had been a very long and miserable day.

I was no sooner tucked up in bed when I heard a sound like someone in army boots running across our tin roof. Possums, I thought. Nothing to worry about; even when the outside sensor light came on, I told myself sensibly that possums or some other night creature had obviously set it off. But still, I locked my door and got out my torch from the bedside table. It was heavy, a good weapon. Not that I would need it. I pulled the doona up to my chin and determinedly closed my eyes. I'm not the nervous type, and it didn't usually bother me to be on my own. After all, Clearwater Creek was not Sydney or Melbourne, or even Brisbane. While crime was not completely unheard of, it was rare.

I was just starting to drift off again when I heard a huge crash outside that jerked me into wakefulness. What the…? I cautiously crept out of bed and went to the window. I was glad the wraparound verandah did not extend as far as my bedroom and there was only one way into it. I looked down at the moonlit back yard that stretched back to the couple of mango trees and the Hills Hoist, where a couple of tea towels moved listlessly in the light breeze. No one was there, but what had that crash been? I listened anxiously for a few tense moments, but the only thing I heard was the beat of my own heart that had somehow jumped up into my mouth.

Then I heard the splinter of glass from the front. Oh God, someone was breaking in. My mouth went dry. After what seemed an eternity, I managed to move over to the bed to grab my torch and phone. Damn, the phone was dead. I'd forgotten to charge it after I'd talked to Lauren. What the hell was I going to do now? I crept to the bedroom door, putting my ear against it and listening for the sound of footsteps. Nothing. But weren't burglars usually very quiet and stealthy? I searched around for a hiding place in case I needed it. There was only the cupboard, the most obvious place in the world and I didn't fancy being trapped in there. At least if the burglar came into the bedroom I could hit him on the head and run like hell.

Then I remembered that my charger was in my bag, which was next to my bed. I scooted over and grabbed it, digging around through make-up, a wallet, a packet of mints and keys before my fingers tightened around the charger. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, I connected it to my phone and plugged it in next to my bed. I waited for a few minutes for the phone to become active again and I pressed triple 0.

‘There's a burglar in my house. I need the police straight away,' I blurted out to the voice that answered me. How could someone be so calm when I was in such danger? By the time I'd given her the address and a few details, I was a mess. Any minute now someone could break into my room wielding some horrible weapon and this cool, composed voice was telling me the police would be there as soon as they could. She was about as emotionless as an automated call from the library telling me I had an overdue book. I clutched my phone in one hand and the torch in the other. I guess I would just have to wait it out. At least the police were on their way. But I wanted someone I knew to be there, someone I could trust and rely on. Mum and Dad were away, Lauren was in Brisbane, Aunt Jan lived in Caloundra and Ryan and
Rex, the terrible twin cousins (even they would be welcome at this point) were interstate at uni. Then his name just popped into my head. Zach.

No way, I told myself. That just wouldn't be a cool thing to do. It would be so unfair and I didn't even know him that well. I heard the dog next door starting to bark and a flurry of bats fly screeching from the banana trees at the side of the house. That decided it. Instinct took over. He had called me and texted me once, so his number was in my phone. I punched it in.

‘Hello,' a sleepy voice said after a few rings.

‘Zach, it's Beth.' Even to my ears my voice sounded shaky.

‘Beth?' No wonder his voice sounded unbelieving.

‘I … I'm sorry to disturb you but I think a burglar is in the house, and—'

‘Now? Have you called the police?' His voice became urgent.

‘Yes, they're on their way, I hope soon. But I'm really scared in case they don't get here in time. And, I didn't know who else to call.'

‘Where are you?'

‘I'm locked in my bedroom.'

‘Stay there. I'm on my way.'

I felt better, still scared, but better. Zach was on his way and somehow that was a great comfort. I crept back to the bedroom door, torch in hand, feeling more confident. After all help was coming.

There were still no sounds. Perhaps this was the quietest burglar, or he had already taken what he wanted and left. I thought of Mum's good jewelry in her bedroom and the stash of money Dad kept in his bedside drawer in case of emergencies. It occurred to me that, as a family, we weren't all that security conscious.

I waited, crouched against the door for what seemed like ages. Then I heard a car pull up outside. Zach or the police? If it was the police, they weren't using their siren. Perhaps they didn't want to scare the burglar off. Oh God, maybe it was the burglar's accomplice, who had come to help him in a getaway car? That sent me into another panic attack.

But then I heard footsteps come up the steps to the verandah and someone pounding on the door, calling out, ‘Police, anyone there?'

‘Yes, I'm here in the bedroom.' What? Did they expect me to come out with a burglar on the loose?

‘Open the door, please.'

Taking a deep breath, I inched the bedroom door open and peered down the hallway. No one was there. I scurried down the hallway to the front door and flung it open. Two burly policemen greeted me.

‘We had a call about intruders, ma'am,' one of them said.

‘I heard a crashing sound and glass splintering. There must be someone here, unless they've already escaped. You took a while to get here.' My tone was accusing. I looked around. Where was the burglar hiding?

At that moment a black ute pulled up and Zach jumped out, covering the ground to the front steps more quickly than I imagined was possible. The two officers spun around, hands on their guns.

‘No, it's okay. He's a friend. I called him.'

They relaxed, slightly. By now Zach was on the verandah beside me. ‘Beth, are you okay.'

I am, now you're here
, I thought. But I said, ‘I'm okay, but I think the burglar must have escaped.'

Zach looked around and then walked down the length of the verandah to the corner of the house. ‘Come and have a look at this,' he said.

The two policemen followed him and I trailed behind, still feeling a little jumpy. The lead glass lantern that Mum had insisted on buying because it gave a certain old world charm to our house, lay shattered over the verandah, and beside it was a broken pot plant.

Zach looked at the police, who came to the same conclusion as he did. ‘Possums,' said the older guy.

‘Sure looks like it,' said the other one.

‘We'll do a search of the house, just to make sure. But, I've seen this before. Possums can make a lot of noise and do a lot of damage. Must have jumped from your roof onto the light here and knocked it over. That was probably the glass you heard splintering. The same one, or even another one, probably landed in the pot plant here and scrambled off.'

It all seemed so logical now. I felt embarrassed. ‘I'm so sorry for calling you out. I really did think someone had broken in.'

The older policeman shook his head. ‘As I said, it's happened before.'

As they headed off into the house to do a quick search, I looked at Zach, feeling more embarrassed than ever in having panicked and called him. ‘Thanks for coming.'

His expression was unreadable. ‘Are you okay?' was all he said.

‘Yeah, I am now. But at the time, I was terrified.'

‘When do your parents get back?'

‘Saturday, and I sure will be glad to see them after this. I don't usually get nervous on my own, but that glass shattering was what did it.'

‘Understandable. That would spook anybody.'

I couldn't get a read on him; he was acting so neutral. Was he annoyed at me calling him or what? ‘Thanks again for coming out, Zach. I really shouldn't have called you. I'm sorry.'

‘Why did you call me? I mean, wasn't there anyone else?' His tone was puzzled rather than annoyed.

‘Um, everyone in my family was out of town and you were the first name that popped into my head.' How could I tell him that the very thought of him in those terrified moments made me feel safe?

He looked at me under thick dark lashes, still not giving much away. ‘So, there was no one else, not even André LeBlanc?'

I probably deserved that but it didn't make it any less pleasant to hear.

At that point the police came back from their search of the house. ‘Everything appears to be fine. We'll be off now.'

‘Thanks, officers,' I said. They both nodded and headed down the steps to their patrol car.

I looked back at Zach. ‘Do you want a tea or something hot to drink?' I asked.

He shook his head. ‘Will you be all right now?'

I wanted to say
no, please stay with me
, but I sensed he wanted to go. ‘Sure,' I said. Then I said, ‘Zach, I'm really sorry about what happened the other night at your place. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I've been feeling badly ever since.'

There was silence for a few moments, and then he said, ‘But you meant what you said, didn't you? I don't really fit into your perfect picture of what you want in your life.' He waited for an answer.

I opened my mouth to protest and say, give me another chance. But nothing came out. Everyone wanted me to be what I wasn't, from my parents, to Lauren to Zach.

He shook his head and gave a sound of exasperation. ‘Don't bother answering that, Beth. I already know.' He turned to go. As he went down the steps, he called over his shoulder, ‘If you get in trouble again, find someone else to help you out.' And then he was into his ute and gone.

I went back inside, too tired to clean up the mess that the possums had made. I'd do that in the morning. Locking the front door, I went inside and back to bed. As I lay in bed, sleepless and staring at the ceiling fan above, I thought again—my life sucked.

I had the morning off and after I cleaned up the mess the possums had made, I decided to give the house a tidy up in preparation for my parents' return. It was good to have something active like vacuuming and dusting to do rather than brooding. Usually reluctant to do this sort of thing, I threw myself into a frenzy of cleaning. By noon everything was sparkly and clean enough even for my mother.

I was now tired and ready to enjoy a coffee and a cream cheese bagel for lunch. I flicked on the midday news, but my thoughts flitted elsewhere and they turned, as they usually did these days, to Zach. I had tried to make peace with him last night, but it just hadn't worked out. If only we could just be friends, that would be great.

I realised that, even though he had helped me out so many times, I knew next to nothing about him. I didn't even know what he did for a living, though I had already pictured him as some sort of tradie or in a job that required a lot of physical movement. His muscular build alone told me that. But what he did exactly escaped me I should have found out more from his sister, Charlotte. And it also struck me as odd that I hadn't heard of either of them before. While I didn't know everyone in Clearwater Creek, it was the sort of place where if you didn't actually know people, you heard of them, or you knew someone who knew someone who knew them. Both Zach and Charlotte were a few years older than me, I guessed. Zach was probably closer to my sister's age or even a year or two older. You'd think if there was someone as hot as Zach around or as glamorous as Charlotte, Lauren would have heard of them or mentioned them. Even something casual like, ‘Yeah, those Mills siblings really won out in the genetic pool.' Not a word though. It was intriguing. Now it looked like I'd probably never find out. I wondered if Zach would even come back to French class any more.

But I couldn't leave it alone. Maybe Lauren might know something about them. It was worth a try. I picked up my phone and sent her a quick text.
Do u know anything about Zach or Charlotte Mills?

I didn't get a reply straight away, but she was probably in class or something. I decided to get ready for my shift, which started at 1:30pm. I was ironing my work shirt, when I heard the buzz that indicated I had a text. I looked at my phone eagerly.

Do u mean the Mills that used to own Isolde Interiors?
Lauren had texted.

I almost laughed out loud. Isolde Interiors was a chain of fashionable soft furnishings stores that sold designer cushions, throws, lamps and expensive knick-knacks. They operated Australia wide. I had heard the family was based somewhere on the Sunshine Coast, but they would be mega rich and from what I saw of Zach, he certainly wasn't in that category.

I texted back,
Don't think so. Zach Mills in my French class and lives on the outskirts of town
.

She answered,
Doesn't seem like them. U interested in him?

I answered very quickly,
Not at all—just curious
.

So that was a dead end. I finished getting ready for work and put the matter out of my mind.

The store was busy today, which suited me fine because it made the time go quickly. Lisa asked me if I wanted to go to the movies and even Kirsty said she would come, so I was starting to feel more upbeat. I had tried to act normally with Derek, but he was still behaving all mannerly and formal as if I were a customer and not someone he had known for nearly three years. Can't win' em all. It seemed where men were concerned I was Miss Unpopular at the moment.