Bode Chronicle:
BRIDGE VS DUNNY BOGS UP TRAFFIC IN BODE
Repairs will need to be made to the Bode bridge after an incident this morning involving a plumber’s van, a decorative toilet and a misjudgment by local towie Mike Baker.
The mechanic was left feeling a little flushed today after he drove a van under the bridge without first assessing the load on top, which plunged straight into the bridge.
The bright-pink plumber’s van was momentarily stuck, causing the morning traffic to bank up, until the loo was levelled. Minor cosmetic damage to the bridge will be repaired as soon as possible and there was no structural risk found.
Mike came in the next morning looking to buy a sausage roll. He was looking rather dishevelled, his grey Henley sporting a large patch of baby vomit on the left shoulder, and his hair sticking up on one side. The baby was teething, he told Mary, who was most sympathetic.
“Of course in my day, we’d have rubbed whisky on their gums. They don’t do that now, I don’t think?”
“No, but I might try it myself tonight,” he said with a wink.
He told Anna that the part had arrived on the courier and he needed the keys to start working on the van. He hoped to have it running again early that afternoon. She asked him if he could check out her spare tyre too, in case the patch wasn’t up to much and he said it wouldn’t be a problem.
As she beat the batter for chocolate cake, Anna contemplated having to leave in a couple of days, once Faith got back. The thought didn’t feel great.
She and Mary had a busy morning and she felt like she was getting the hang of Mary’s system. She stayed mainly in the back, prepping and baking while Mary served and chatted to customers. She seemed to know them all, and well. From who they were romantically involved with to all their health complaints, as well as who had a beef with whom. Gina had nothing on Mary, Anna decided.
She and Mary talked about their lives. She told the older lady about her childhood, her kids, and her decision to end her marriage. Mary was a good listener, and only offered advice when asked, Anna realised.
“What about you ?” Anna asked. “How did you become the owner of all this?”
“Oh, it was my Stanley’s family business,” Mary said. “His father started it as a tea room years ago, back when there was more industry here. The freezing works and such. I wanted to be a nurse. The hospital in ’Clutha had free housing and I thought it would be a great way to get out of home.” Anna gave her a sad look. “Oh, it wasn’t that I had an awful childhood. I just had four brothers. I wanted some space!” She laughed. “But then I met Stanley, and he swept me off my feet.” She looked a little wistful. “We had some happy years here. We worked well together.” She smiled at Anna. “A bit like you and me. An easy rhythm. He was always the better baker too, he taught me how to get those scones just right.” She passed Anna a block of butter from the fridge and began laying bread out for more club sandwiches. “After he died, I just kept the shop going, I suppose. I’d given up on the idea of nursing by then.”
“And no kids?” Anna asked carefully.
“No. Stan had mumps as a kid. Couldn’t have them. I have lots of nieces and nephews, but kids weren’t on the cards for us. And to be honest, I didn’t mind. Stan and I had each other.”
“It sounds like you’re close with your family,” Anna commented. “Do none of them want to be part of Duncan’s Doughnuts?”
Mary laughed. “No, they’re all terrible in the kitchen. My mother was an old-fashioned woman. She taught me all her cooking skills, but not my brothers. And they all married what I call ‘microwave wives’ — you know, those women who defrost the meat and cook the outer edge grey at the same time? And make nachos by putting pre-grated cheese on a bag of Doritos.”
Anna laughed. “That sounds like my brother’s ex. She could overcook water.”
“Here, let’s finish these and have a cuppa, shall we?” Mary said, mashing up the eggs. “I’m dying for one. And now I have a hankering for a scone.”
“I’ll see you in the morning then,” Anna said to Mary as they locked up that afternoon.
“Oh no, dear, I don’t open Saturdays any more. Too old for that lark. I’ll be watching my nephew play rugby in the afternoon.” She put the key into the pocket of her coat. “Actually, if you’d like to, why don’t you come down and watch the game — keep me company? I’ll bring a thermos of coffee.”
Why not? Anna thought. She’d used to enjoy going to Cameron’s games when he’d played and the thought of watching a bunch of grown men running around a field in fitted shorts wasn’t unappealing.
There was no sign of Mike when she arrived at the garage, or of Rizzo either. For a moment Anna stood puzzled until she heard and then a second later saw the bright-pink van coming up the road towards her. There was something different though and at first she couldn’t put her finger on it. Mike jumped out of the driver’s seat and looked sheepish when he saw her.
“Ah shit, Anna — isn’t it? Sorry, mate, I had a bit of a run-in with a low-lying bridge.”
She noticed then what was different about the van. All that was left of the toilet was a lump of cement and a few remaining pieces of jagged ceramic.
“Oh. Well, you know we’re not really plumbers, right? You just did us a favour actually.”
“For real? Shit, that’s a relief then. Thought your van was a bit crap, to be honest.”
Anna didn’t think the pun was intended. Mike’s eyes widened suddenly. “Fuck, are you, like, fugitives or something? Is the van stolen?”
“No, it’s a long story though. So, is she running okay then?”
“Yeah, yeah, she’s all good. I’ll fix the timing and give her an oil change and she’ll be good to go. I’m going to put her inside. Had a call from Kurt just before and he doesn’t want her sitting out in the yard overnight. Are you sure you’re not, like, running from the law or something?”
“Mike, Kurt is the law.”
“Oh yeah, true.” He grinned at his stupidity. “Better get on with it, I guess. Got Audrey Graham’s car in for a warrant while my wife is doing her pedi and she’ll be spewing if it’s not finished when she’s done.”
Anna tried hard not to think about Audrey’s toes.
Kurt was mowing the lawns and Anna stood on the back deck surveying the garden. It was a garden her father would be proud of — neat rows of spinach and broccoli, the crimson tops of beetroot peeking out of the soil below their lush green leaves. Cursing her lack of sensible shoes, Anna pulled off her boots and winced her way over the crushed shell path in her bare feet. She’d heaped a decent pile of weeds to the side of the garden when she heard a sound and looked up.
“You’ve been working hard. You didn’t need to though. Don’t want you to feel you have to work to pay for your board, Anna.”
Kurt stood watching her, sweating lightly. She’d been so engrossed she hadn’t heard him turn off the mower and had no idea how long he’d been standing there for.
“I don’t mind. Quite enjoy it actually. We had a decent vege garden when I was growing up.”
“Here, at least put some gumboots on. They’re Dad’s so they’re probably a bit big.” He jogged over to her, a pair of Red Bands in his hand. They were indeed too big but Anna put them on gratefully. Her toes were pink from the cold and covered in dirt.
“Thanks.” She straightened up again. They were standing less than a metre apart. So close she could see the faint imprint of frown lines on his forehead and the crinkles around his eyes. There was only a couple of inches difference in their height and they were almost at eye level. He lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe his face and Anna could see his stomach, all the ridges and grooves and a happy trail … and oh, my God, look up, Anna! she told herself. But when she did he was leaning into her, his hand up by her cheek and holy hell! Was he going to …? She closed her eyes.
“Ladybug,” he said, pulling something from her hair. She sighed a little. In regret, not relief.
“Oh. Well. I’m not scared of bugs,” she said stupidly. She couldn’t believe she’d thought he was going to kiss her. Kurt cleared his throat and they both turned back to the garden. She attacked the weeds, willing her red cheeks to go away.
“So where was home? As a child?”
“I grew up on a farm in the Waikato. My parents are still there and my older brother runs it now. It hasn’t been all designer clothes and fancy city lifestyle for me.”
“I never said it was. Never thought that at all.”
Anna looked down at her mud-smeared jeans. “No, I know. But that’s what I was like for a long time.”
Kurt didn’t know that Anna. Since he’d met her she’d been the new Anna and she was glad about that. The old Anna could be impatient, tooting at cars that weren’t going fast enough — God forbid she arrive five minutes late for her yoga class — and way more serious than this Anna. There hadn’t been much to smile about in the last few years. Since she’d been on this trip with Faith, she’d been way more relaxed and had more fun than she could remember having in a long time.
Working with her hands again gave her purpose and it felt good to be helping Mary out. She’d used to volunteer at the SPCA when she was a student and had forgotten how good it felt to do something for someone else. She felt suddenly ashamed she’d been so selfish for so long, not thinking of anyone much beyond her own family.
“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” Kurt said standing and stretching. “I’m taking you for dinner at the RSA to say thank you for all your hard work. It won’t be as good as our meal last night but they do a pretty good fish and chip Friday.”
The RSA consisted of a paisley-carpeted seating area with Formica tables with vinyl chairs and a wood-floored bar area with an old snooker table and half a dozen bar leaners. It smelt faintly of fried food and it was a little rundown, but clean and inviting with a low hum of voices.
It seemed like half the town was at the RSA for Friday night and Anna said as much to Kurt as they waited at the bar for drinks.
“Yeah, and the other half are at O’Leary’s,” he laughed. “But no, actually, Bode’s got a good mix really. Older people, young families. We’re big enough to have a high school — just. It’s a good community and pretty supportive. If anyone needs something, there’ll be a fundraiser and we all chip in.”
“So how many police officers then? Is it just you?”
“No, my partner Wayne too. We cover a decent area, including the smaller towns that don’t have their own station. We have the wonderful Kath who does all our office work but only two holding cells. Only time it ever got crowded was when Mike and Tina’s wedding got out of hand and we had to throw three of my cousins in there to sober up for the night.”
“Oh shit, that doesn’t sound too good.”
“Nah, it was a great night. Except that Mike was one of the guys in the lockup and Tina was pretty pissed off with him.” He grinned and Anna laughed.
They carried their drinks and a laminated menu over to a small square table and sat down.
“So what made you decide to be a cop?” Anna asked, sipping her wine. Kurt gave her a contemplative look.
“I was a bit of a wayward teen,” he told her. “After Mum died, I went off the rails a bit, I suppose. No direction, small town, so all the usual bullshit. Underage drinking, smoked a bit of the ‘green friend’ you mentioned, a bit of vandalism, tagging and the like.”
Anna was surprised. It was hard to imagine.
“It must have been hard losing her when you did,” she said. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Yeah, an older brother. He was at uni when she got sick. Lives in Dunedin now with his own family.”
“And how did your dad take it?”
“Oh, he was a wreck. Which was why he didn’t notice I was being a little shit. I got caught eventually though. The local cop, Les Borich, caught me smashing a window at the high school.” He paused to take a drink. “Anyway, he sat me down and gave me a bit of a talking to. And something he said must have just clicked, I guess. He let me off, made me repair the window, told Dad he needed to keep an eye on me more. It worked for both of us, snapped us out of things.”
“And so you joined the force?”
“Yeah, I think I just realised that it was a good place to help people who needed it, you know? That if Les could make a difference for me, I might be able to do the same.” He looked a little shy as he said it. “So off I went to training, and off to Dunedin for a bit, then Les retired, and the job came up here.”
“I bet Cliff was happy you came back.”
“Yeah, I guess. He and I get along pretty well. I only moved in with him a few years ago though. I thought he could do with the help.” He shrugged. “And I wanted to get a dog,” he added with a grin. “It’s a big place for just him, but he wouldn’t sell it. He’s getting on now, but he’s a stubborn bugger and he won’t retire yet either.”
“Did he want you to take over at the garage?”
“Nah, not particularly. And Mike’s been hanging round there since he could hold a spanner. Every day after school since he was a teenager, and Dad finally took him on.”
He picked up the menu and Anna suspected he was uncomfortable talking so much about himself. She picked her own menu up.
“So, fish and chips, you say?”
While Kurt went to place their order, Anna got up to use the bathroom. It was very outdated, but spotlessly clean and the stalls were empty. She was coming out of one when the door opened behind her and she found herself being thrust hard up against the wall next to the hand-dryer.
“Where’s the fucking van?”
A sweaty hand pressed firmly against her throat and she choked slightly, unable to answer.
“Answer me, bitch. What’ve you done with the van?”
She vaguely recognised that it was the guy from outside the cafe in Dunedin, the one in the red car and possibly the same guy who had almost attacked her in the garage the other night. His eyes were bloodshot and darting about wildly. There was a stale, rancid odour to him. He didn’t seem steady on his feet and she wondered whether he was drunk, or maybe high. His hand loosened slightly.
“I haven’t done anything with it, it’s getting fixed,” she gasped.
“I need something I left in it.” He swayed and removed his hand from around her neck but was still pinning her against the wall by her shoulders.
“There’s nothing in it you could want. Your weed’s not there, if that’s what you’re after.”
“What weed?” He looked confused. “Nah, bitch, I left something else in there eh?” He leaned so close she could smell his fetid breath. “You fucking take me there right now. I’ve got debts, man. I need it, okay?”
“What do you need? There’s nothing in there,” Anna repeated.
“I’m in the shit okay? Fuck!” He let go of her and violently punched the wall. Anna seized the opportunity. She shoved him with both hands and he stumbled back and then slipped, sprawling onto the floor. She spun and yanked the door open, ran down the hall, too terrified to look back to see if he was following her.
When Anna arrived back in the dining room, everything seemed just as she’d left it. Around half the patrons looked up at her appearance though, gasping and dishevelled in the doorway, including Kurt. He took one look at her and stood and they met in the middle of the room.
“What’s going on? Are you okay, what happened?”
“Gary,” she gasped. “He just attacked me in the bathroom.”
Without a word he was off and Anna was left staring after him. She’d started to shake and felt like she might pass out. Never in her life had she been the subject of violence, apart from a bit of roughhousing with her brothers, and now twice in one week she’d almost been attacked. She felt a gentle hand on her elbow and someone led her over to a chair. A glass of amber-coloured liquid was pushed into her hand — brandy, she realised, spluttering as she took a large gulp. She tossed the rest of it back gratefully.
Kurt came back while she was sipping at a second glass, looking grim.
“No sign of him, he probably went out a side door. I’ve called it in to Wayne and he’s going to have a look around. I should go help him.” He reached for his jacket, looking uncertain.
“No, stay here with me.” The thought of him leaving made Anna feel panicky. “It’s your night off, have something to eat. Please.” Her voice was shaky.
Kurt looked down at her. He reached out and gently touched her neck where she could feel the marks Gary had left.
“All right,” he said. “You want another drink?”
“Could you get me a wine? Anything red will be fine.”
“So, what exactly did he say to you?” Kurt asked when he came back, carrying a bottle and two glasses. Anna told him what had happened.
“He seemed desperate. For some reason he thinks there’s something in there and he really wants it back. Not the drugs. I wonder if his mate Baz took whatever it is out before he sold us the van?”
“Yeah, possibly. I had a feeling he might come back. That’s why I asked Mike to put the van inside the shed. We’ve had a few reports of petty theft — little stuff like a sleeping bag and food. Someone had some clothes stolen off their clothesline.”
“You think it might be Gary?”
“Wayne was called out this morning because a guy thought someone had been sleeping out in his shed. It might be nothing but it is unusual behaviour for around here. I’d like to get hold of him and have a talk to him, and he’s assaulted you now as well, not just threatened to.”
Wayne called when they’d just finished their food to say there was no sign of Gary, or of the red Mazda they suspected he was driving, but he’d go back out for another look later. He was going to keep an eye on the garage as well. The info on the plates hadn’t come back yet and Kurt was hoping to hear the next day.
“I’ll get us a nightcap,” Anna said, when Kurt told her all this. Kurt didn’t object and she saw again the merits of living in a small town where almost everything was within walking distance and you could have a few drinks.
She’d had far more of the wine than Kurt and was feeling pleasantly buzzed when they got up to leave. In fact, more than pleasantly buzzed she realised as she tripped over a plastic mat at the bottom of the stairs and felt her ankle twist. Anna tumbled into Kurt, clutching at his arm to hold herself up, but still managed to slide down onto the floor in a most ungainly manner.
“Whoops, ow.”
“Are you okay?”
Kurt reached down and grabbed her hand to pull her up, but when she tried to stand she realised she couldn’t put any weight on her foot.
“No, I think I’ve sprained my bloody ankle.” She took a hobbling step, but pain shot up her leg. “Oh shit, you’re going to have to piggyback me home,” she giggled.
Kurt regarded her for a moment. “I can do one better than that.” He scooped her up into his arms and pushed the door to the RSA open with his hip, easing them through.
“I was just joking. You can’t lug me all the way back. I’m way too heavy.”
“Hardly,” he huffed, walking along the quiet street with long strides.
“At least you’re not carrying me fireman-style, I guess. Because you’re a policeman, aren’t you?” Was she slurring?
“I am indeed,” Kurt replied, sounding amused as he crossed over the road, nodding casually at someone walking towards them.
“Your police uniform is much sexier than a fireman’s uniform. Fireman pants are way too baggy.”
He laughed, his chest rumbling where Anna leaned her head, feeling lulled by the movement of his body. “So strong,” she mumbled.
She may have dozed off, because then he was fumbling by her butt, reaching for the lock on his door and then they were inside.
“You know, if this was a movie, you’d be kissing me right now,” she said.
He was watching her intently, his eyes hooded and he leant in, their lips so close she could feel his breath. Her heart pounded. She wanted to kiss him so badly, and then he was pulling away, setting her down gently in the hallway.
“I’ll get you some Panadol,” he said. “And some water.”
He thought she was drunk. Maybe she was. Her ankle had started to ache and she went into her room, shut the door carefully and stood, feeling like an idiot. She heard him coming back down the hall.
“Anna?” he called softly, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer. After a beat, he left, and she heard his door open, and then close. She hobbled over to the bed, carefully pulled off her boots, wincing at her swollen ankle, and got in, fully clothed, feeling stupidly close to tears. Her head swam a bit. Eventually, she fell asleep.