A sliver of early morning sunlight hit Jennifer’s face. She screwed her eyes shut and arched her body under the flowery quilt. She yawned and stretched her arms up and out to the side. She stilled, remembering that she’d more or less ordered Calum to sleep next to her. Heart thumping, she lifted herself up to look. No Calum. Maybe, once she’d fallen asleep, he’d gone back to sleep on the floor. She threw back the quilt, crawled to the foot of the bed and saw that all his clothes and bedding were gone.
Okay, it was safe to say, Calum had taken off before she woke.
Jennifer told herself that was a good thing: nothing happened, therefore no strings. It was Saturday, and after the solicitor this afternoon, she could go home. She gasped. An anxious feeling burst in her chest. But why? Was she anxious to get home to London? Yes, of course that was it. Really, her sister and niece needed to leave as well. That way, they’d save the quiet country town of Tumble Creek a visit from city thugs.
At least she’d had a decent sleep, and felt so much better for it. Bret had escaped and there had been no more phone calls. That had to be a good sign, yes? She dragged herself out of bed, showered and dressed, hoping cargo pants and an embroidered cotton top would be appropriate for a visit to the solicitor. She slipped her feet into her favourite sandals, muttering about Bret and extortionists.
‘As if life doesn’t have enough problems — honestly?’ she said to Marilyn’s black and white glam photo. On her way to the kitchen she realised that, other than stale scones and coffee made from hot tap water, food was scarce. She caught sight of a note propped up against a thermos with a paper bag next to it on the table.
She moved closer and picked up the note. Back later, Twinkles. Calum.
Her heart stuttered. Her breath quickened. Her mind was in a muddle. Calum had gone to the trouble of making sure she had breakfast. Jennifer dared not think anything into that.
She poured herself a coffee, opened the bag, peered in to find an assortment of sweet buns, and plucked out a cinnamon scroll. She wandered around the kitchen, munching and sipping her instant coffee. Jennifer imagined sitting around the kitchen table, with Sofie and Claudia. And during winter the old stove would keep them warm. Jennifer opened an overhead cupboard, found the most exquisite set of dinnerware, and took a cup down to look underneath. ‘Wow, Royal Doulton, Rose Buds. Uncle Bob, you’re a mystery.’ She shook her head and put the cup back. Were they all wrong about his sexual preferences? Perhaps he had a female soul, and Veronica loved his gentle side. But where was this elusive woman?
A quick look at her watch said she had a couple of hours to kill before Sofie and Claudia turned up for their appointment with the solicitor. Jennifer went downstairs to the shop’s kitchenette. Restoration ideas fluttered through her mind. She quickly dismissed them as idiotic fantasies and opened the cellar door. Cool air rose and touched her face. The smell that wafted up reminded her of visits to ancient vineyard cellars in France, Germany and Italy. She’d only ever been down her uncle’s cellar once, under his strict supervision. Drawn to the flagstone steps that disappeared down into inky blackness, she had to investigate, and now, she had to do it without him.
Her finger felt around on the wall for the light switch, found it and without thinking flicked it on. A sickly yellow light lit the way. Taking a deep breath, Jennifer started down the worn steps. Then with a snap, the lights were off, leaving her in the dark. ‘Crap!’ She inched her way back to the door and ran to the upstairs kitchen. ‘Torch, candles — pantry?’ She found an assortment of both and headed back to the cellar.
Torch at the ready, candle and matches in her pocket, Jennifer peered down the gaping black hole. There might be nothing more than damp cobwebs down there now, but somehow she doubted that. She directed the torchlight at the sandstone wall. The faint glow was barely enough to see by. ‘Great, it’s a conspiracy.’
Ducking the spider webs, Jennifer carefully negotiated the narrow steps spiralling down. The air felt cooler with every step. A nagging little voice inside her said, It’s every chef’s dream to have his or her own cellar. She replied, Sure, but not this chef and not this cellar.
The air was dank and chilly at the bottom of the stairs and Jennifer rubbed at her bare arms. Every move she made echoed. The cellar felt like a large cave. The darkness sucked the light right out of the torch. She moved forward and shone the faint beam around the stone walls and floor. She passed it over what appeared to be a pile of old clothes and quickly went back to the spot. ‘Oh my God, a hand!’ Frozen with fear, her throat closed on a scream. Her entire body shook. She dropped the torch. It clattered onto the flagstones and went out.
Jennifer widened her eyes, but the blackness surrounded her, dense like an impenetrable cloak. Her breath came in short gasps and strange, squeaky noises came out of her mouth.
RUN!
* * *
Calum had been to the hardware shop and bought a carton of smoke alarms. He wanted to fit them at Bob’s place as soon as possible. He stood at the front door of the empty chemist shop, hand raised ready to knock, when a blood-curdling scream erupted from inside. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. More screams echoed through the shop. It was difficult to tell where they were coming from, but he knew one thing: it was Jennifer.
‘Shit!’ He had to get in there, fast. He hammered on the door, and then thumped it with his shoulder, any harder and he’d break the plate glass. It crossed his mind to go around the back, but that would’ve taken too long. By the time he got there she’d be at the front with her hair on fire because she hadn’t listened to his warnings, or worse still, she was wrestling thugs.
‘Jen!’ he shouted. Ignoring the few pedestrians who slowed their pace for a better look, he ran back to his work ute and pulled a mallet out of his tool box. ‘I’m coming, Jen!’ He raised his mallet ready for the first blow into the shop’s glass front door.
‘Cal! Ya can’t use a mallet!’ a passer-by hollered from across the street, ‘the place is heritage listed!’
Calum glared over his shoulder and hesitated, then heard the brass bolts slide with frantic speed and turned to see the door fly open.
‘Calum!’ Jennifer cried out. All colour had drained from her face, but at least her hair wasn’t on fire.
Itching to hold her, he dropped his mallet. Before he could step in and wrap his arms around her, she grabbed a handful of T-shirt near his throat and hauled him in.
‘Get in here!’ She yanked him across the shop floor. ‘Quick, hurry, there’s a dead man in the cellar!’
She pushed him through the cellar door, and pulled a candle out of her pocket, shoving it at him.
‘What’s this?’ Calum took it and peered down the stairs. ‘What am I supposed to do with a candle?’
‘That’s a cellar and there’s a horrible dead body down there, and —’ She pointed a trembling finger into the blackness.
‘I gather you’ve tried the lights?’
‘They were on for less than a minute and — bang! They went out. Look, will you please hurry up!’
‘There’s no hurry. If he’s dead, he’s not going anywhere.’
She eyed him sceptically. ‘You don’t believe me.’
‘I do! But a candle, Jen — come on. I’ll wait here; you get a torch from the ute. It’s in the toolbox on the back tray. Unless you’d rather wait here while I get it?’
She looked at him, green eyes panicky. ‘I’ll get the torch.’ She zipped away.
‘Dead bodies in the cellar. What next?’ Calum muttered.
A strange heavy scraping sound was coming toward him, and not from the cellar, but from the shop. Adrenalin shot through Calum, and fists clenched, he took on a defensive stance. Then Jennifer came through the door, a torch in one hand, and dragging his mallet in the other.
‘Christ, Jen,’ he let his hands fall to his sides. ‘Why did you bring that? All I wanted was the torch.’
‘You might need it down there.’
‘Give me that.’ Calum took the heavy mallet from Jennifer’s hands and set it down to rest against the wall. ‘It’s okay, he’s dead,’ Calum stated with a raised eyebrow. Jennifer looked ready to crack, so he softened his attitude. ‘You don’t look too good. Why don’t you stay up here and ring the police?’
‘I am not going to crack, I want to see for myself — you know? I’m not a sicko. I just need to know what I saw wasn’t a figment of my imagination.’
‘Fine.’ He switched the torch on and a ring of light lit up the steps. ‘Stick close to me.’
‘Like a shadow.’ Her trembling hands gripped Calum’s shoulders as he edged down the stone steps to the floor.
He shone the torch beam across to the left, then back for a short way to the right. The light passed over something shiny. He inched forward and stopped at a puddle on the floor.
Jennifer gasped. ‘Look at all that blood!’
‘What blood? And where’s the body?’
‘He could be hiding.’
‘I thought he was dead?’
‘He looked dead. I’m not silly enough to stop and feel for a pulse! Would you?’ she gave him a scathing look. ‘Of course you would.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ He swung the torch, carefully searching into corners, then moved closer to the pool of ‘blood.’
Jennifer shuffled behind him, peeking over his shoulder, hot breath near his ear. ‘You’ve got more muscle, in case we get jumped.’
‘Right —’ he swallowed hard. ‘Glad to hear it.’ Without thinking, Calum inclined his head to give Jennifer better access to his neck. And then he tried to breathe like a normal human being. ‘There’s no one here.’
‘Crap! He must’ve taken off when I ran up and opened the door for you. Yep — eeywh, look wet footprints going off towards the stairs.’
‘Not very dead then,’ Calum said with a wry grin. ‘Damn big prints though.’ He could feel the tension making the muscle just above his jaw twitch. ‘Let’s have a closer look.’ Calum dipped a finger onto the wet patch, rubbed it between his finger and thumb, and sniffed it. ‘What a waste.’
Jennifer looked down. ‘It’s not blood, is it? It’s wine.’
‘Yep.’ Calum picked up one of the bottles lying on its side against the wall and handed it to her.
‘He’s been drinking wine down here. Oh my God! I don’t believe it — Grange Hermitage! The bastard’s been swigging on the most expensive wine in the country — he was drunk on a two-thousand dollar red!’ Jennifer turned to Calum. ‘He’s been in here all night — all night! That’s what I heard. He was singing.’ She began to pace. ‘I thought it was a pissed local. Damn it, what was he singing? I couldn’t understand the words, but I’m sure it was familiar.’
‘He left something.’ Calum picked up the photo and dusted it off.
‘It’s a woman.’ Jennifer turned the photo over. ‘Nothing on the back. There’s something vaguely familiar about it, but I can’t think clearly. What’s he doing in my uncle’s cellar?’
Calum swung the torch around. ‘What’s this?’ He peered deeper into the cellar.
Crouching, ready for anything, they faced at least ten racks of wine five feet high and spanning the floor. Silently, carefully, they searched between every rack, but found nothing.
‘Like you said, he’s gone.’ Calum rubbed his scalp. ‘Maybe he knew about the cellar, and thought he’d try some before it all disappeared.’
‘Are you being absolutely honest with me? On my first night here, you and Sergeant Stewart were having a heated discussion about Uncle Bob as you were coming down the stairs — what was that about then?’ Jennifer waited.
Calum didn’t want to sound insensitive. ‘You’re a woman of the world…’ he began. Jennifer rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, I’ll get to the point. We’d only just met you and the argument was whether or not to ask if Bob was gay.’
‘Is that all?’ Jennifer frowned. ‘We thought he was, but now I’m not so sure. It may just be that he was a warm and gentle man with a feminine side. Uncle Bob bought his girlfriend Veronica frilly underwear in Paris. You wouldn’t know where I could find her, would you?
Calum shrugged. ‘Nope. No idea.’
‘May I have the torch?’ She swung it towards the racks. ‘This is unbelievable,’ she breathed, looking around. ‘I knew Uncle Bob had been collecting wine for years, but this is…’ she trailed off.
‘One hell of a lot of wine,’ Calum murmured, impressed.
Calculating in his head, Calum worked out the cellar was huge, at least half the size of the shop above. Racks of wine took up most of the space. He watched Jennifer head for the rack nearest to them. She ran her fingers over some of the bottles, removing the cobwebs and dust to reveal the labels.
‘Oh my God,’ she gasped. ‘There’s more Grange Hermitage. All these Australian wines are top labels.’
‘That’s good, I guess.’
‘Good! What’s in this cellar is worth serious money.’ She walked to the last rack and studied the labels with Calum peering over her shoulder. ‘They date back as far as the early fifties. I’m speechless.’
‘C’mon,’ Calum took her hand. ‘Enough exploring. We’d better let Brock and Tony know about the body and how it disappeared.’
His intention was to glance at her, but her bewildered expression drew him in. His gaze lingered and his gut tightened. He tried to stifle a grin.
He led her towards the stairs and followed her back to the shop’s kitchenette. Calum used his mobile to ring the police and briefly filled them in on the break-in.
‘Yeah, we’ll wait. Come around the back.’ He closed off and opened the back door, letting sunlight in. ‘You’ve got stuff —’ he said, pointing at her hair.
‘What is it? What’s in my hair?’ Jennifer danced, head down, fingers ruffling through her curly mop.
‘Take it easy. It’s nothing. Lots of web.’ Calum chuckled.
‘You sure there aren’t any spiders?’ she asked, dipping her head toward his chest. ‘Hurry, have a look.’
Calum peered into her hair, plucking at a few cobwebs. He ran his fingertips along her scalp from front to back and she straightened up.
Breath shallow, she licked her lips and said, ‘Better do that again…just to be sure.’
‘Yeah, I should,’ he murmured. Her silky curls slid through his fingers. Her beautiful face tilted back, and his eyes searched hers. They’d gone a darker green, burning with desire. She was open to him, trusting. Her lips parted. Like a drug, he needed to feel her mouth on his, longed to dip his tongue between her lips. Heat coiled in his groin. His fingers gripped the curls at the back of her head and he brought his mouth down on hers.
Leaning into him, she moaned. This only made him hungrier. His hands moved down her neck, her back to the small of her waist, itching to go further and cup her squeezable arse, so he did. Her cheeks were firm and he tucked her into his groin. She moaned again and he joined her. Her soft, plump lips moved over his, her tongue played with his. He shifted down and tucked his arms under her arse to lift her and move them both back inside.
* * *
The back gate creaked as it swung open.
Jennifer’s eyes flew open to see Calum’s eyes mirror hers, large and saying, caught, big time. Mouth not leaving hers he eased his hands away from her bottom and eased her down until her feet touched the ground.
‘We have visitors,’ he said against her mouth.
‘Damn,’ she muttered. He gave her a wicked grin.
She stepped back and straightened her clothes just as Brock and Tony marched into the courtyard, serious faces turning quietly amused.
‘G’day Brock, Tony,’ Calum said.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Brock tried to hide a grin and failed, miserably. Tony chuckled and got an elbow in the ribs, which shut him up quick smart. ‘What’ve you got?’
Jennifer invited them inside out of the biting sun. Brock asked the questions, but they both took notes. Half an hour later, they had all the facts, plus they checked out the cellar and removed the wine bottle to dust it for fingerprints.
‘So I gather you have no idea who the drunk might be?’ Jennifer asked.
‘Er — no,’ Brock said, ‘but the photo will help. And if you can remember what he was singing, it’ll help the investigation. Between the two of us we should be able to find out if this woman is a local. We’ll let you know if anything turns up.’ Brock shoved his notepad in his shirt pocket and sauntered up the path back to the gate.
‘We’ll keep you informed,’ Tony said over his shoulder.
The gate swung shut with a creak and a clang. Jennifer’s pulse quickened.
‘Where were we?’ Calum’s voice rumbled, the dark sexy look back in his eyes.
Jennifer had had time to cool down and think. ‘Um…’ Oh God, it would be so easy to float back into that heavenly daze. His fingers in her hair, his hands on her body felt so good.
‘Thanks, for helping me out,’ she said, and caught his soft smile. Quickly, she busied herself with brushing the dust off her hands and clothes. Every time she saw him she was a complete mess, but what did that matter? she asked herself. It wasn’t as if she was out to impress.
‘My pleasure,’ he said with a winning smile. ‘Any time you want someone to check your hair for spiders, I’m your man.’
Oh, that was lame, but charming. ‘Listen,’ Jennifer said veering off the subject of spiders. ‘I’m not happy about having slept with a drunk in the cellar all night. I’ll have to install safety chains. Or do you know of a better option?’ Yeah, like move in and guard my door, like you did last night.
‘Safety chains would be a good start. Under normal circumstances I’d suggest alarms, but the wiring in this place couldn’t handle it.’
‘I don’t suppose they come battery powered?’
‘No. Only smoke alarms do,’ he said softly, moving in close. He watch his fingers twirl around a curl. He pulled it straight then let it go; it bounced up, landing on her forehead. ‘Great hair.’
‘More spider webs?’ she asked, her belly feeling like it was in free fall.
‘No…I could search?’
‘That’s okay, but thanks for offering.’ The urge to start over was tempting. She backed away and, fearing they might stray, she tucked her hands into her armpits.
Calum nodded in understanding and changed the subject. ‘I’d keep the wine to myself if I were you. Once the locals get a sniff, you’ll be a popular woman. Not that you aren’t already,’ he grinned. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll install a few smoke alarms and safety chains for the front and back.’
‘That’s very kind, but I can do that, can’t I?’
Calum shook his head. ‘Don’t — and I mean don’t — touch anything. I won’t be long.’
Jennifer hurried to the pink bathroom, peered into the mirror and fiddled with her hair to no effect. Her hair did whatever it wanted and nothing less than electrical devices could get it to do otherwise. ‘What’s the point anyway? A couple of days and I’ll be gone.’ She shrugged at her image and dusted herself off.
Waiting upstairs in the hall, she passed time by checking out the sideboard. Still wondering why her grandfather was neatly out of his own wedding picture, nothing came to mind that would clear up that mystery. She opened one of the top drawers. Among postcards and letters, she found half a dozen hair clips and lifted them out. As she ran her fingers over the fancy diamantes, she thought they were delicate and pretty. Veronica had left little traces of herself throughout the house. She had little time left, but she would try to find her. Her uncle’s solicitor would know. Calum’s footsteps pounded through the shop and up the stairs, as he came closer.
She turned to see him striding down the hall, effortlessly carrying a ladder on his shoulder. Equipment jangled from a broad, leather tool belt slung low on his hips that swung back and forth with every step. The movement was mesmerising. She pulled her gaze away, dropping it to his washed-out jeans that fitted snug around his thighs. Then back up to his white T-shirt, stretched taut across broad, hard chest and biceps. Jennifer was spellbound. Without thinking, she dropped the hair clips on the sideboard.
‘Jen?’ Calum held up a couple of plastic carry bags.
‘Huh?’ she said dreamily.
‘Smoke alarms.’
‘Oh.’ She came to her senses and met his gaze. ‘Great.’
‘I’ll start in the kitchen.’ She followed him in. He propped his ladder against the wall near the door and climbed up. Jennifer put the bags on a bench and lost herself in his supple, big-cat-like movements, straining forearms and biceps, and jeans that hugged his butt and thighs. She inclined her head, gazing, content to watch him work.
‘S’cuse me, Jen?’
‘Hmmm?’
‘Could you pass me the cordless drill?’
‘Drill? You want to drill something?’
‘I want to drill these screws into the wall, otherwise the alarm will fall down. Have you been wine tasting in the cellar?’ he grinned.
‘Course not. Sorry.’ She mentally slapped herself, which had little effect. She stretched up, passed him the drill and said, ‘Thanks for the coffee and sweet buns. Breakfast was delicious.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He grinned down at her.
Jennifer’s enjoyment went on for over an hour as Calum put up smoke alarms. Then he rechecked the archaic fuse box inside a cupboard in the laundry.
‘Okay, I’ve turned off the mains power, should’ve done it yesterday. Sorry, Jen, but I’d like a good night’s sleep. Even though I’ve turned the power off, don’t touch power points, don’t touch switches. I can leave the hot water service on as that comes in on a separate line and looks safe enough. The doors have chains, and I’m sure Brock and Tony are hard at work looking for the intruder.’ He picked up the ladder and his tools. ‘Where did you put the bag I gave you?’
‘On the kitchen bench.’
‘There’s a stack of batteries in it. You’ll need to replace them for the old ones in all the torches so you’re never without a light.’
Jennifer gazed at him.
Calum inclined his head and looked back. There was a long pause where neither said anything. Jennifer could hear her heart thumping in her ears.
‘Jen?’
‘Yes, I’ll do that. How much do I owe you?’
‘Uh-uh. Call it community service, should’ve done it ages ago, just didn’t know it was this bad.’
‘No, I insist on paying you.’
‘It’s a meagre sum. Don’t embarrass me. It might save your life and the lives of people up and down the street, okay?’
‘Okay, have it your way.’ On impulse, she reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she breathed, lingering for just a moment to take in his warm male scent tinged with a hint of pine. She stepped back, and immediately felt a sense of loneliness. How did he get that smell? She could nuzzle his neck all day. His eyes slowly drifted to her mouth and in a blink, the atmosphere changed to something a lot more sensuous.
Calum’s gaze locked onto hers. And then a smile eased into his features. It wasn’t just any old smile, in the depths of his eyes she saw something, a knowing, like he could he read her innermost thoughts. Jennifer took a deep breath and tried to deal with the butterflies fluttering through her stomach. She felt as if she’d just gone down the big dipper at Luna Park. Oh help, what have I done? We nearly had sex! Would’ve had it not been for Brock and Tony.
‘My pleasure.’ Calum’s grin widened, curled a big hand around her neck and pulled her in. He angled his head and planted his soft mouth on hers for a short, but very hot, deep kiss. ‘Be seeing you, Twinkles.’ He walked out the door just as Sofie and Claudia walked in. He gave them a nod as he passed. ‘Morning, ladies.’
‘Morning,’ they chorused, surprised and curious.
Sofie strode up to Jennifer and whispered, ‘Rearrange your AO face before Claudia sees you. She’s not eighteen yet.’
In a dream, Jennifer gazed at Calum’s athletic back, arms, butt. ‘Right,’ she said on a sigh, and turned on her heel. ‘Right!’ she said forcefully this time.
‘You look like you could do with a cup of coffee.’ Sofie raised her basket. ‘I brought a thermos.’
‘You’ve got real coffee in there?’
‘No, instant, this will have to do. At least it’s hot.’
Jennifer kissed her sister’s cheek. ‘Come through to the kitchen, I’ve got a few things to tell you.’
‘It’s Bret, isn’t it?’ Sofie sounded on edge. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have left with Brock and the crew to go to the pub.’
Jennifer gathered cups and plates then poured them all a coffee before sitting down at the old, scrubbed pine kitchen table. Sofie and Claudia pulled out chairs. They sat and propped elbows on the table. Claudia brought her hand up to rest her chin in her palm. Sofie laced her fingers, tightly, turning their knuckles white in anticipation that what they were about to hear was not good.
‘The call yesterday wasn’t from Bret, exactly,’ Jennifer began. She told them the whole story, often having to calm Sofie down, explaining to her it was all right, that Bret escaped and was on his way to Darwin. Claudia had no patience for her uncle; Jennifer knew she’d seen her mother all too often worry about him and bail him out of trouble. She’d had enough and told them Shit-for-brains needed teaching a lesson.
‘Obviously, they think we’re worth a few quid. Maybe Bret told them we’re inheriting everything from Uncle Bob. Boy, are they in for a shock.’ Jennifer shrugged arms out. ‘I don’t know!’
‘What if they find us to get the money?’ Eyes wide, Sofie covered her mouth.
‘Sofe, you can’t go on about scenarios, and what-ifs, okay?’ Though Calum had said as much, they needn’t know that. ‘You can’t anticipate.’ Jennifer clasped her sister’s shoulder. Sofie’s hand fell away from her mouth. Jennifer continued, ‘We’ll get the money. Thing is you start something like this and where does it end?’
‘You call the police. That’s where it ends.’ Claudia thumped the table.
Jennifer sighed. ‘Yeah, you’re right Claudia. I’m so bloody pissed off that’s exactly what I might do.’
‘Might!’ Claudia screeched.
‘Oh bugger!’ Sofie cried out. ‘Do Mum and Dad know?’
‘Are you kidding? I’m not involving them! Bret called us. If he wants them to know what’s going on, he can tell them. They’d interrogate me, and I have no answers,’ Jennifer flung her hands out, ‘but they’d keep pushing, going way beyond Bret, and start on me, then you and Claudia.’ She shook her head. ‘Not happening — no way!’
‘Okay — okay.’ Sofie held Jennifer’s hand.
She wasn’t happy about her outburst, but talking about her parents always fired her up.
It was Sofie’s turn to soothe and change the subject. ‘What was Calum doing here?’
Jennifer looked up from her hands and said, ‘He installed smoke alarms, but there’s more.’
Sofie and Claudia edged closer.
‘Calum was here when the thugs called…he stayed all night. Don’t look at me like that. Nothing happened. It nearly did, but then the police came.’
‘What…again?!’ Sofie cried out, eyes round, hands clutching her face.
Jennifer was thankful that Sofie latched on to the word ‘police’ rather than what she nearly did with Calum. She finished off with telling them about the comatose local and their uncle’s cellar full of wine.
‘Jeez,’ Claudia complained, ‘I missed all the fun — again!’
* * *
People went about their business on the street while Nikolay tried to remain inconspicuous. Difficult when he was panting like a large, unfit jogger trying to pass himself off as an athlete. Plus, he was recovering from how close he’d come to being caught. Squeals akin to those of baby piglets had woken him. He’d felt the adrenalin rush so strong that it had made him belch. He’d tried orientating himself while a massive bass drum pounded in his head. Holding his head, he’d lurched up the cellar stairs and stumbled out the back door. He’d winced when the back gate creaked open but, relieved the coast was clear, he’d moved into the shadows. The sickening hangover combined with the midday heat had his head pounding so hard his eyes felt ready to pop.
Sweat trickled down Nikolay’s face as he sweltered by his you-beaut ute. He’d left the car standing in the shade yesterday; now it was in full baking sun. He could barely touch the door handle. He squeezed his belly behind the steering wheel, turned the ignition on and took off, winding his window down and keeping it that way the whole fifty kilometres to his motel. It didn’t cool him at all. The hot northerly breeze made it difficult for him to breathe. Sweat dripped off his chin and elbow, and his shirt stuck to his armpits. He could almost smell the red wine coming out of every pore.
Marinated, steam-baked Russian.
He wondered how the locals survived this awful, energy-sucking heat.
He drove into the small town of Parrot Rock, parked the ute outside his motel room and stumbled inside. Shutting the door, he slumped backwards onto the bed, panting. He was going to die — definitely — no one could survive this much pain. His hand reached for the remote to turn on the air-conditioner. It kicked in slowly and burbled along with a rattle and hum.
‘Shtupid doorak, drinking wine. Vodka not do this,’ he groaned.
With his breath almost back to normal, Nikolay eased up off the bed to get a flannel from the en suite bathroom, and soaked it under the cold tap. He took himself back to bed, placing the cold flannel on his face.
Maybe she hadn’t seen him properly. Nyet! Cover blown. Fool, he thought. It was time for Plan B — whatever that was. He dug out his mobile and dialled.
‘Zdraastvooeeche. Hello,’ a familiar voice answered.
‘Cover blown, Boris. I come home,’ Nikolay stated, leaving no room for doubt.
‘Where are you?’ Boris demanded.
‘Motel, you shtupid doorak!’ Nikolay growled quietly into the phone. He tried to remain calm, but the wine and the heat were wearing him down. He rubbed his bulging neck muscles. And now Boris, sitting in his fancy office, was going to try and make him stay and tell him how to do his job.
‘Who you call doorak? You let them see you! Your problem. You go back, get stuff!’
‘Nyet! I coming home, no way can find stuff. Forget all about. Stupid to get involve with idiots. Poochawk paakhnooshchee svinya daalshi. Bunch of smelly pig farts.’
‘Who you calling pig farts? I am your comrade, your friend. This trouble comes out we both go to Seebeer! Siberia!’ Boris yelled.
Nikolay could almost see him sweating. ‘Good. Nice and cool in Seebeer — like your office,’ he grumbled. ‘I was in shop. Man said, “Hot, is not it? You can fry eggs on bonnet of car!” ’
‘They will humiliate me — then you...quietly! We will no longer work for embassy, sweep streets in Seebeer! Think about what happens to you and Anna! They will cut you dead.’
‘What for all this drama! Heh?’ Nikolay waited.
A long sigh came down the line. ‘I cannot say over phone. Stay, for me, and watch for little while. Something might happen.’
Nikolay disconnected and threw the phone down, then picked it up again to ring his wife. Hearing her lovely voice, he sighed, barely able to stand the heartache.
‘Dooshyenka. Darling Anna,’ he said, sending kisses down the line. ‘I am to stay a little longer. Da. I be missing you too, dooshyenka.’ They talked for a while. ‘I come home soon. Will ring tomorrow. Prashaitye. Goodbye.’ He sent Anna another kiss. ‘Prashaitye, dooshyenka,’ and regretfully closed off.
He might be grasping at autumn leaves in a high wind, but he had to try. While waiting for the line to connect him to his man in London, he rummaged in his bag for some headache pills. He dropped four into his mouth, twice the prescribed amount, grabbed the vodka bottle sitting on the bedside table, took a few swigs and washed them down. Holding the phone to his ear with his left shoulder, he filled his hip flask with the remains.
‘Da?’ a grating voice enquired.
‘Vladimir! You pay attention — you have to get in girlfriend’s flat,’ Nikolay demanded. ‘Bob could give photos or something to his niece.’
‘Of course there are photos, I’ve seen them with Bob in London, Paris and Italy.’
‘No, they are different photos — Bob with Boris.’
‘How you mean, different?’
‘I do not know! Boris will not say.’
‘Stupid man,’ Vladimir grouched. ‘Anyway, is no good, do not have key. And caretaker would not let me in.’
‘You use prune for brain and do it!’ Nikolay hung up. Vladimir’s chances of finding anything useful in the flat were remote, but still worth a try.