Falling Away (16 page)

I look around. “I can’t believe it. This place has been here the whole time and I never knew?” The water is a transparent aquamarine. It laps the shoreline in a gentle slosh and roll, the sunlight netting the sandy bottom. I dip my toes in its warm ripples.

He grabs my hand. “Pretty special, huh?”

I meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful. Thanks for bringing me.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, you should be feeling honoured,” he laughs. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here. Actually, you’re the only person I’ve got to know. Sort of. Which is hard to believe I guess, seeing as I work on the ferries.” He pauses briefly. “The guys here, they seem to hang tight.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You’re not wrong. They
are
kind of ... exclusive. It might take a while for them to accept you. Especially since ...” I break off.

He glances across. “Since what?”

I hesitate. “Well, since you don’t surf.”

His face tightens. “I guess so.”

“Plus it takes a while until you’re considered a local. It’s a protective thing.”

“Protective?” He seems confused.

I look at him. “We get a lot of tourists here. It’s what keeps us going. Sometimes though, it gets a bit much. It’s fun and it’s busy, but we’re entirely overrun, and we need to protect it. Our own little piece of paradise. Schmaltzy, right?”

“Not really.” He stares across the water, shimmering in the delicacy of daylight. He goes quiet. And you can see it in his face, like a deep descending fog. “I get the need to protect what you’ve got.”

Letting it go would be easier, but after a while I ask, “Do you mean after losing Charlie?”

He nods slowly, decisively. “Yep.” And that’s all. That’s all he says.

“So do you ever get sad?”

His eyes break free of the river and he sighs. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But it’s not as bad, you know? Not nearly. That raw pain that tears you up inside? That’s gone. Or maybe you learn to live with it. You’re not aware of it every waking moment. Like at first, when your stomach’s hollowed out and your heart’s been skinned and you’re left with a hole. All empty and raw and so fucking painful.”

I squeeze his hand, tearing up as he speaks. “How long did you feel like that for?”

I watch him remember, the pain settling in his eyes. “I cried for a year while it gnawed at me,” he says. “What a wuss, huh? Guys aren’t supposed to cry, are they?”

“Aren’t they? You lost your brother, Jack.” Like he needs reminding.

He smiles ruefully, shaking off the dark absorbing thought. Puts the light back into his wounded eyes, and I see now that it’s not a façade. More like a coping mechanism. Nothing superficial. Rather it seems all too painfully real.

I shift closer and hug him. He wraps his arms around me, enveloping me in warmth. I feel helpless actually, like I should say more. Do more. Say the right thing. The overwhelming urge to wave a magic wand strikes me in the heart. But I’m no magician.

He releases me to give me a poke in the belly with a knotted smile. “Want to go fishing?” he says.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“So who’s the guy?” Riley demands, narrowing his eyes.

I rack my memory, trying to think how he could possibly know. “What do you mean?”

“The guy you left with the other night? You know, on the boat.” He fires an incredulous look in my direction.

“Oh, him.” I’m falsely nonchalant. “That’s Jack.” So much for wanting to keep him secret. All for me.

He lifts his eyebrows. “Right. And since when is there a Jack?” He’s annoyed and I hear it. I really wasn’t expecting this today.

I look up at him, shuffling my feet nervously on the floor. “Um, since recently.”

He just nods, twisting his mouth down disapprovingly.

I reach for his arm. “Riley ...”

George walks into the room and stops, staring from me to Riley and back again. “What’s going on? Are you guys okay?”

I shrug. “We’re fine,” I say, forcing a smile and looking up at Riley.

“Leave it alone, George. This doesn’t concern you.” Riley turns and stalks from the room, leaving George gaping behind him.

“What’s going on with you two?” George demands in a whisper, peering round the architrave at Riley busying himself in the kitchen. “I told you I don’t like complications.”

“Absolutely nothing,” I say.

He looks at me like I’m mendacious. “I’ve said it before Sam, I don’t want any complications between my staff.”

I nod. “Okay.” There might be some complications, but they’re not what George is assuming. Not exactly, anyhow.

He calls Riley back in from the kitchen. “Hey Riley, I need to speak with you.”

Riley pops his head through the kitchen door, leaning his tall frame against the architrave. “Yeah? What is it, George?”

George tells us that Gemma’s not well. She won’t be back for a while. At least a few weeks. That I’ll be on bussing duties with Emily so Riley will mostly fly solo in the kitchen. If things get busy he’ll call in Joe.

Riley’s face drops. “That’s ridiculous George. You need to hire a casual waitress.”

George shakes his head. “We’ll see. I’d really prefer not to.”

“Hire one, George.” Riley’s tone suggests authority, and I wonder at his audacity.

“Is Gemma okay?” I’m not surprised to hear this news, based on how thin she’s become.

George shrugs a concerned shoulder. “I’m not sure. Her mother called me last night. Said she wasn’t well. And Emily said she’s moved home for a while.”

Emily comes in from the front. “So you heard? Gem’s not well.
Really
not well.”

“I’ve just told them,” George says, backing into his office and closing the door.

Riley heads to the kitchen, surly.

A strange smile curls across Emily’s face. “So what’s the story with you and Riley? What’s going on? It’s obvious that something’s happened.”

I shrug casually. “Like I said to George, absolutely nothing.” I pause. “Which is why Riley’s pissed off.”

“I see,” Emily nods knowingly. “So, I guess I’m not understanding everything here. Why would he be pissed off if there’s nothing going on?”

It’s a good question. One that I’m not sure I want to answer. How deeply I would need to go to fill in the details. That night on the beach; the drink at the pub. And now Jack ...

“We had a moment, but it didn’t work out.” I’m unapologetic for my brevity.

“I knew it! I knew something was going on with you two,” she says triumphantly.

“There isn’t anything going on, Em. I wish you guys would stop jumping to conclusions. And anyway,” I add, “I’ve started seeing someone else.”

Emily’s eyebrows spike with interest. “What? You dark horse! Who is he?”

I laugh at the dark horse comment. “His name’s Jack,” I offer contritely.

“More ...”

I roll my eyes. “He’s a ferry captain.”

“And ...”

I fold my arms across my chest. “And I really like him. He’s sweet, and gorgeous, and romantic ...” The mere mention of Jack and romance steals a shiver through my belly, flipping it over in my core. And I have a ridiculous grin plastered across my face that I just can’t shake off.

Emily laughs at me. “A-ha! That’s more like it. You’re gone, aren’t you? Completely and utterly gone.”

Completely and utterly gone?
I guess I am.

“So when do I get to meet him?” Emily presses, smirking.

I knew this would come next. I roll my eyes at her again. “Well as a matter of fact, he’s picking me up tonight.”

“What? From here?”

I nod. “Yes. From here.”

“Ooh,” she says, clapping her hands in triple time. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Knowing that Riley will be here too, I think I can.

***

I hardly see Riley all day, which is a good thing. And we’re not that busy so he keeps to himself. Which is another good thing. Because I can hang out here with Emily and avoid him.

Avoid.

Escape.

Evade.

Dodge.

Frankly it’s just easier. My shift finishes at six, but at five fifty-five he corners me when I cart a load of glasses into the kitchen. He presses up roughly behind me, hangs that familiar arm loosely across my shoulders. And the heat of him burns.

He whispers into my ear, asking for candour. “So tell me. What’s
he
got that I don’t? I’m truly interested.”

Annoyance sparks from somewhere deep inside. I swivel to face him and he’s intimately close. I pull his arm off my shoulder but he replaces it, grinning. He runs a thumb across my cheekbone.

I pull his hand away. “What is
with
you, Riley? I thought you were my friend. That you were going to be nice. Because I can tell you right now.
This
is not nice.”

His face drops, along with his arm. I push him away. I need to get out of here. Away from him. His insinuations and his pressure. I push past, heading for the door.

“Hey, wait. Fuck, I’m sorry Sam.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Really sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

I turn around. “Yeah? Well stop being a jerk. I’ve had it. You’re hot and then you’re cold. You’re nice and then you’re an asshole. You drink to get wasted but other times you seem like you’ve got your shit together. I just can’t work you out.” I’m enraged, the fury rising through me like a building storm. “Just leave me alone, Riley.”

He looks at me, wounded. I can see the hurt in his eyes but for once I don’t care. And when I turn to stalk from the room, Jack is standing in the doorway. Blocking my way. Watching.

Shit
.

“What the hell is going on?” he demands, all casual and barefoot. “You okay?” he asks.

“Totally fine,” I say, quelling my rage. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Cool with me,” answers Jack, shooting Riley a
don’t fuck with me
stare as he steps almost menacingly into the room.

Riley straightens up, stands taller. They eyeball each other momentarily, making my heart thud a little louder.

Jack seizes my hand and guides me from the kitchen. I grab my bag as we exit the café, Emily giving us a disappointed wave as we leave.

Jack doesn’t say anything, all the way to the wharf. It’s not like he’s angry, more like he’s bothered. Disturbed even. I’m unsettled and anxious. I don’t know how long he was standing there. How much he saw. Or what he thought. Finally, he speaks.

“Is that guy always like that?”

I look up at him and his eyes are deeply vexed. “Like what?”

“Hassling you. That’s harassment you know. You don’t have to put up with it.”

I exhale, the tension flowing from my lungs. “He’s not always like that. He’s okay most of the time.”

“You don’t have to hide it. I’m not going to beat him up or anything. Although the thought did cross my mind,” he laughs bitterly.

I squeeze his hand. “Honestly Jack, he’s fine. I can handle him.”

He looks at me, ensuring I mean it. “Well, you certainly gave him a serve. I liked what I saw. At least you know how to stand up for yourself.” He pauses. “I was going to teach you a few karate moves. I’m a black belt.”

“Really?”

He laughs. “Nah, not really. Don’t know a single move.”

He stops suddenly and pulls me into an embrace so tight I can hear his heartbeat. Immediately it all melts away. The crap, the tension. My shitful day. And I realise how much I need this. Need
him
. And not just sometimes. All of the time.

“But you have to tell me though, if you can’t handle him. If he gets too much for you.” He runs a hand over my hair, grabbing a handful of it and holding me tighter against him.

I pull back and poke him in the ribs. “And what’ll you do? Punch his teeth in?” I joke.

He laughs with eyes that tell a different story. “Well if he tries anything like that again, I just might try.”

“Yeah, right,” I say, rolling my eyes.

But the scary thing is, I think he means it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sam? It’s your mother. Where are you? You’re never at home, and your father and I...well, we worry. You haven’t been home since yesterday and a little bit of courtesy would go a very long way. Especially since your father’s not well. You don’t want to be contributing to his ill-health, do you? Because at the moment you are ...

She has
that
tone. The one with capacity to drill me for guilt. I click off the voicemail, ignoring her gnarly message. I’ve only been away for one night, and as for the blame trip? I won’t subside into self-reproach on her account.

The phone rings. I throw it to the end of Jack’s bed and let it ring out. Jack left for work hours ago, so I recline into the glittering sunshine. Reflecting from the river, it pours over me like a warm bath to settle my galloping annoyance. I won’t let her crush me into compliance.

My phone whistles loudly and I jump, startled. Dialling voicemail, I am most relieved to hear Ben’s voice.

Hey, Sis. Where are you? Mum rang. She’s on the warpath and sounds like she’s gonna send out a search party for you. I’m coming up tonight, but could you please call her? She doesn’t know where you are. Just let her know you’re ok. I’ll see you later on.

He ends the call, the line hanging open with thick dead air. I roll off the bed. With an overwhelming desire to speak with Dad, I dress quickly. Even if
she’s
there, I need answers. Using all my brutish strength, I heave Jack’s glass doors closed when I leave.

***

“Where’ve you been, Sam? Your mother’s out of her mind.” Dad berates me from the kitchen bench, his arms resting on the cold white stone.

“Where is she?” I ask, looking around for any tell-tale signs.

“Gone searching for you.” Dad’s breathless and pale, effortfully drawing oxygen from the river-blown room. And he looks drawn.

“Are you okay, Dad?”

He raises eyes that appear full. Of emotion, distance, sadness, regret. Brimming with disorder and muddied turmoil. “I’m fine, love. Just exhausted.” He gives a little cough, and a brief silence hangs like a tangible barrier between us. There’s obviously so much more that he’s just not willing to tell.