Текст книги "Collision"

Автор книги: K. A. Sterritt

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Six

Juliette

I woke up still smiling. My grin was bigger than usual as I stretched my arms above my head and allowed myself to relive the night before in exquisite detail. My smile faded when I glanced at the clock. It was almost lunchtime, and Richard would be picking me up in about four hours. Poor, oblivious Richard. The contrast to Leo, who was still at the forefront of my mind, was too extreme to deal with, especially without coffee.

“Morning, George,” I said cheerily. My coffee machine had a name. It seemed right to refer to him as George—a good, strong name befitting the greatness he offered. I was physically dependent on him and he never let me down.

I flicked the power button and he sang a little tune of beeps in reply. As he warmed up, I set about making myself a sandwich. Similar to a fight, it was all about the combinations. Sometimes you had to take a risk to achieve greatness. Sia understood my sandwich prowess and benefitted regularly from it, but Richard mocked my enthusiasm. He encouraged me to sample his gluten-free alternatives and, if he didn’t serve a purpose, it would be an irreconcilable difference.

The character I’d been playing every day for as long as I could remember was well suited to him. Sometimes I wished I weren’t such a good actress. Unfortunately, that would mean he might notice the disingenuous smiles, gritted teeth, self-protective body language and shortness of breath as I struggled to breathe under the lies. Suffocation was a miserable way to die.

The aroma of hot water flowing through freshly ground beans and into my favourite coffee mug reminded me why I’d never give up this actual drug addiction. Richard’s daily lecture on the detrimental effects of caffeine on the body elicited a tight smile and the occasional nod. He no doubt misinterpreted my smile as appreciation.

As if he knew I was having impure thoughts about him, my phone rang and his name flashed up. I squeezed my eyes shut tight as I answered with as cheery a greeting as I could muster.

“Morning, babe. How was your night?” His cheery tone matched mine exactly.

“Oh, you know. Same as usual,” I lied. “How was yours?”

“Fantastic.”

“Really? Why?”

“Your mother called.”

How that could possibly be fantastic was well beyond my imagination.

“And what did Isabel have to say?”

“She wants me to give a speech at the event tonight on the investment opportunity of philanthropic funds. She asked me to come early to rehearse, so I drove up this morning.”

Of course he’d left me behind to go running to my mother’s lair. I was completely thrilled by the change of plan.

“Oh, right. So…” I took a sip of my coffee and inhaled the delicious fumes, hoping he couldn’t hear the smile in my voice.

“I’m sorry, Juliette. Are you okay to drive yourself? If not, I’ll drive back now and get you.”

“Oh no,” I said, possibly a little too enthusiastically. “I’ll drive up later. No problem.”

“Drive carefully in that ridiculous little car of yours. It’s more powerful than you might think. And make sure you’re here no later than four so I can run through my speech with you.”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I knew exactly how powerful my car was.

“Bye, Richard.”

I’d read about a coffee house in a small town not far from where the event was being held. It wouldn’t be too much of a detour—best coffee in the Yarra Valley, apparently. How could I resist verifying that claim?

With my sandwich and coffee, I sat out on my small balcony overlooking the river and the city skyscrapers. I had just enough room for a table with two chairs squeezed amongst the mini jungle of greenery I tended daily—a small oasis where I could let my mind float away. Within seconds, I was mentally recounting a documentary I’d watched fifteen times about dangerous jobs. My favourite were the avalanche ski patrollers who headed out in the first light of dawn each morning to assess the mountains for danger. They carried dynamite in their backpacks and they knew every time they did their job, their life was on the line. From my cushy apartment, which Dad had bought me as a graduation gift, and job, where the most exciting thing to happen would be a stock suspended for unknown reasons, the sadness descended.

Knowing I couldn’t procrastinate any longer, I headed back inside to get ready. One of the emails from my mother had informed me that the theme was ‘Black and White’. My mother was famous for elaborate and over-the-top extravaganzas, so this theme showed great restraint. She’d already asked me to wear a conservative white dress to give Richard some visual hints. We’d been dating for three years, and my mother was determined to have me married off as soon as possible. The thought made me nauseous, but I would wear the damn white dress she bought me because that’s what I always did. When I slipped the white lace over the fitted underlay, I felt like the fraud I was. I was already a prisoner in my own life, but marriage would be a life sentence.

Navigating my way out of the city in my red rocket was easy. I loved the Yarra Valley wine region and wondered if I’d be happier living out of the city, surrounded by animals and wide open spaces. My parents were xenophobic city dwellers. Whenever I’d tried to bring up my mother’s childhood on the Mornington Peninsula, I was shut down with a ferocity I couldn’t understand.

Chapter Seven

Leo

The fights were barbaric—men beating each other half to death—and the guilt should’ve weighed heavily on my soul. But it was a consensual arrangement. I needed an outlet, and fight night was it. The prize money wasn’t great, but money wasn’t my sole motivator. The sense of relief I felt from pummelling men into the ground was disturbing. My rage just poured out of my fists, and for a few hours, I didn’t feel like a ticking time bomb with a fast-burning fuse. There was something addictive about putting myself in the firing line, to feel the pain and to see exactly what I could endure.

The stunning young blonde staring at me through the cage had snapped me out of doing something really stupid. She looked like a displaced angel caught in Hell. I couldn’t take my damned eyes off her and was momentarily mesmerised. She held my stare with a steely resolve. I was intrigued and more than a little turned on. She was completely out of place, but there was a strength emanating from her that told me she could handle herself.

My phone’s ring tone interrupted my thoughts.

“Leo. Hey. It’s James.”

“Hey, mate. What’s up?”

“I’m working a function tonight, and the bartender has pulled out last minute. I told the boss lady I might know someone who could step in.”

I paused. My body was screaming at me from the fights, but I could always do with the extra money.

“Where and what time?”

When he gave me the details, I didn’t respond immediately.

“She pays almost double the normal rate,” he continued.

Fuck it. I could handle it. Fight night had been good for me. “Okay. I’ll be there. Thanks for the job, mate.”

Dressed in black suit trousers and a white button-down shirt, I jumped in my old Jeep and headed out of the city. I wanted to make a detour to see one of my best friends, Beatrix, who also happened to make a mean cup of coffee.

Bea’s Beans had recently been profiled in an online travel magazine as having the best coffee in the wine region, which I thought was a massive understatement. It was easily the best coffee I’d had anywhere. Tourists were making a point to stop in to sample her special blend, and her little business was booming.

“Leo!” Bea screeched from behind the coffee machine.

I pushed my Ray Bans on top of my head and smiled. “Hiya, Bea. How are you?”

“Better for seeing you. What brings you out this way?”

“I hear your coffee isn’t too bad.” I winked.

“Can you have it here or do you need it to go?”

“I’ve got a bit of time.” I pointed to the blackboard menu above her head. “Better get me one of those toasted sandwiches too.”

“Coming right up, handsome.”

I took a seat by the window, grateful the lunch rush was over. I had half an hour for some caffeine and carb loading. The Saturday paper was open on the table, and I flicked casually through the pages. A small article on Melbourne’s illegal fight club scene caught my attention. I knew the scene might change sooner or later, but I wasn’t looking for accolades or recognition. I was looking to expel the anger no amount of therapy would quash.

Bea came out from behind the counter with my coffee and sandwich. “What happened to you?” she asked, leaning in to inspect the few plaster strips I’d placed over cuts on my face and hands.

“Oh, that’s nothing. I was out last night and got caught up in a fight. You should see the other guy.” I laughed, hoping she’d drop the subject.

“Can you sit down for a bit?” I took my seat and gestured towards the empty place opposite me.

“Have you hired someone to help you out yet?”

“Angus has been hassling me to let Kayla take over a few shifts, but I don’t want to give it up my full control. I feel like it’s a big part of who I am.” She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side, indicating the framed pictures on the wall. “You’d understand that.”

I knew exactly what she was getting at.

“It’s different, Bea.”

“I know. I just wish…” She shook her head, knowing this was a pointless conversation we’d had too many times.

“Hey, is it okay if I crash at yours tonight?” I asked. “I was out late last night and don’t really want to drive back to the city after work tonight.”

“Of course. The side door to the spare room will be open. Let yourself in.”

“Thanks, Bea.”

A noisy family came bustling through the door, interrupting her train of thought. She leant down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said then went back behind the counter.

I had to get going anyway, so I took the last swig of coffee and gathered up my phone and keys.

“Bye, darlin’,” I called out as I walked towards the door. “Thanks again.”

Chapter Eight

Juliette

On my way to the coffee house I’d seen online, I’d taken a wrong turn and had become mesmerised by the Gruyere countryside, beautiful old houses and lavender fields. One particular home stood out. I pulled over on the side of the road and stood on the grassy verge to get a closer look. It was so quiet and peaceful. An occasional bird cry was the only noise to break the silence. I took a deep breath, and my lungs thanked me for the cool, fresh air despite the scent of lavender that, unlike most, I found offensive.

The house was a heartbreakingly beautiful double-storey stone farmhouse that appeared abandoned. Ivy grew with reckless abandon over large sections of it, and some of the stonework was crumbling. It didn’t look like the gardens had been tended in a really long time. Despite the state, I admired the drystone wall lining the property’s front boundary, adding to my budding love affair with this house. With no signs of life, I pushed the iron gate open and shuddered at the screeching sound it made. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was there, I walked through. I knew it was trespassing, but it really didn’t look like anyone lived there, and the idea of getting caught gave me a small rush.

I stepped gingerly from stone to stone in my peep-toe heels my mother had bought me. She insisted I dress “appropriately” for her functions and didn’t trust me to accomplish that goal myself. At twenty-five years old, my mother still treated me like an irresponsible child.

A brass plate was fixed to the wall next to the front door: “Gwendolyn.” I walked around the side of the house and stepped carefully through the overgrown garden beds to one of the large sash windows towards the back. Clearing a patch on the dirty glass with my hand, I peered in. The smudged pane made for poor visibility, but I could see sheets over the furniture. The whole place just felt sad and lonely.

Sitting back in my car, I glanced over to the house one more time, curious as to why I felt so incredibly drawn to it.

***

Bea’s Beans had an unassuming shopfront and was located only a few minutes’ drive from the beautiful farmhouse on the edge of a small township.

“Long black, please,” I ordered from the girl behind the counter.

“Take a seat. I’ll bring it over to you.”

“Sorry. I should’ve asked for it to go. I’m in a bit of a hurry. I got a bit sidetracked on my way to find you. You see, I read about this coffee online somewhere and had to check it out. Might have been a travel magazine. I’m not sure. Anyway, it’s just so beautiful around here and you also have the best coffee in the state, so you could say I’m in heaven.” I had no idea why I was rambling.

“Hey. Slow down, darl. I’m not sure you actually need caffeine.” She laughed in a friendly tone that wasn’t mockery.

I took a deep breath and thanked her.

“I’m Beatrix, coffee connoisseur,” she said. “This is my place.”

“Oh. Hi. I’m Jules.” I rarely introduced myself as Jules. Always Juliette or Juliette Salinger. I just felt instantly comfortable with this girl. “I like to think I’m a coffee connoisseur too.”

“Well, Jules, if that’s the case, you can call me Bea.” Her smile was warm and genuine. “I sell my special blend beans if you wanted to take some home.” She pointed to a table on the wall to the left of the counter. “I can grind them for you if you like.”

“Thank you.”

I walked over to the table to check out the various beans and coffee machine accessories she was selling. Above the antique wooden table was a corkboard jam packed with hundreds of flyers advertising local events and services. There was an ad for the amateur fight night I would be competing in at Lilydale, which was close by. I still couldn’t believe I was actually going to do it.

My eye was drawn to a collection of framed photos next to the cork board. One of them I could have sworn was Gwendolyn—the stone farmhouse—in immaculate condition.

“Here’s your coffee,” Bea said from behind me.

Startled, I turned and took the coffee from her hands. She looked to be about my age and was ridiculously pretty with short blonde hair, green eyes and a heart-shaped face.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“So you’re not from around here, then?” she asked.

“Oh no. I live in the city.”

Bea perched herself on a stool. “I couldn’t live anywhere but here. I’ve been here all my life.” Her face was pure contentment. “So what brings you out this way, then?”

“Your coffee, for one thing.” I didn’t want to talk about my mother’s charity or the fact I was running late for Richard’s speech rehearsal. I took a sip of my coffee and let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. “This may be the best coffee I’ve ever had. Puts George to shame, and that’s saying something.”

“George is your city barista?” she asked, smiling broadly.

“Nope, and don’t laugh. He’s my coffee machine. I call him George.”

Bea threw her head back and laughed. When she stopped, she pointed to her coffee machine, grinning. “Meet Charlie.”

I liked this girl, and I didn’t have many friends I could be myself around. It was hard being friends with those who knew me only as the society princess.

“So why do you have a picture of that house in here?” My curiosity needed a little fuel.

“One of my best friends grew up there.” She rubbed her forehead lightly as she spoke, and a flash of sadness washed across her face. “It’s still his family home, but no one lives there anymore.”

I had so many more questions, but before I could ask anything else, the door opened. A tour bus had stopped out front and a line of customers filed in. I glanced at my watch and nearly dropped my coffee. I was late and would incur my mother’s wrath. Richard would be annoyed with me too, for upsetting her and not listening to his speech.

“Sorry, Jules,” she said, stepping down from her stool. “I’d better get back to it. It was lovely to meet you.”

“You too.” I held up my empty coffee cup. “Best coffee ever.”

“Thanks. Coming from someone who names their coffee machine, that means a lot.”

I put my cup back on the counter, waved to her and headed for the exit.

I held the door open for a few stragglers from the bus. “Bye, Bea.” I waved again when the exit was free.

I had to drive back past the stone farmhouse and couldn’t resist pulling over again, even though I was now horribly late. This time, I was looking at it in a different light. I started envisaging it as a family home full of laughter and noise. I imagined the lawns mown and the flower beds flourishing with colour. I wondered what state the inside was in, and I wondered why no one lived there anymore.

I wanted to lose myself in that house in the countryside, miles from my life in the city. If my mother could read my thoughts at any given moment, she’d have a heart attack. She felt it was a matter of time before Richard and I got married and moved in together. It would kill her if I disrupted her fragile world in any way. My fierce determination to help maintain her illusion was taking its toll, but the alternative was unthinkable.

My phone’s ringtone broke the silence. I knew who it would be before I looked at the screen.

“Hello, Mother.” I closed my eyes and rested my chin on my chest with my shoulders slumped forward.

“Where on earth are you, Juliette? You should be here already. You’re being very disrespectful. I’m disappointed in you.”

I wondered if it had occurred to her to be worried about me. I could’ve been in an accident and lying injured in a hospital, or worse. Instead, her concern was keeping up appearances.

“I’m sorry. I got lost, but I’m on my way.”

“I was relying on you and you’ve let me down.” She sniffed.

She was crying. Of course she was.

I sighed. “It’s okay, Mum. Tonight is going to be a huge success. I’ll be there really soon.”

“Well, hurry up,” she said, still sniffing. “Are you wearing the dress I bought you? I brought an option for you just in case.” She went silent for a moment before she screamed, “Not over there!”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“The help can’t follow my simple instructions either.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see you soon.”

She hung up without saying goodbye, and I just stared at my phone as it disconnected.

I was exhausted. I didn’t want to turn the car back on. I wanted to stay right there in the middle of nowhere, where I felt completely at home. The object of my fascination shimmered in the late afternoon sun, highlighting the yellows and browns of the crumbling sediment.

I had a feeling deep in my gut that I was meant to find that house, and that it somehow held the key to my freedom. I had no idea how long I sat there, but when my thoughts came back to the present, I was aware of the darkening skies. I turned the key and floored it.

Chapter Nine

Leo

“Sure thing, ma’am,” I replied through gritted teeth and a fake smile. Mrs Fontaine, the woman running the charity event, was a ball breaker.

She had changed her mind about the exact placing of every table no less than five times. I had to keep reminding myself this woman paid her event staff almost twice the going rate. I was just grateful I didn’t have to associate with the type of people who attended her functions in my everyday life.

“That’ll do,” she said finally.

The event was being held on the lawn behind the homestead of the most luxurious estate in the Yarra Valley. It was a cocktail party and everything was black or white. How original, I’d thought. The setting, however, was unique. Situated at the top of the hill, the guests would be overlooking the rows of vines and the mountains beyond. It was wine country at its best.

The Estate homestead was impressive—an old white weatherboard with plantation shutters and a full wrap-around veranda.

“Is there anything else you need?” I asked politely.

She gestured towards the veranda. “I’d like a wet bar set up over there. Make sure my guests’ glasses are never empty. I’ll leave it up to you to—”

A man appeared out of nowhere and interrupted, “Where the hell is Juliette?”

Instead of being irritated by his rudeness, Mrs Fontaine tried to appease him. “I’m so sorry, Richard darling. I’ll give that inconsiderate daughter of mine another call. Come with me. We’ll find somewhere private to run through your speech.”

The rude son of a bitch had stood directly in front of me as if I didn’t exist. I supposed in his world, I didn’t.

“I’m sure I can find a way to help you relax,” she continued.

His back was to me, but I could see her hand grip his arm and then rub it up and down. Well, that seemed inappropriate, I thought to myself. Shrugging, because I genuinely didn’t give a shit, I walked away to get on with my job. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the girl they were discussing. She was about to incur her mother’s wrath, and whoever this guy was to her, he was a complete wanker.

The string quartet began playing as the guests started arriving, and I walked around with a tray of filled champagne glasses. There were four staff members including James and me. We were there to serve the fifteen couples who’d no doubt paid a pretty penny to attend this exclusive shindig. They would all be staying in the luxury accommodation, so the champagne was flowing.

An attractive woman, probably in her forties, approached, eyeing me up and down like I was her next meal.

“What can I get for you, ma’am?”

“What are you offering?”

I replied in a serious tone, “French champagne, wine, spirits, mineral water. What are you drinking?”

She leant over the bar, invading my personal space. “I was hoping you were on the menu.”

Was she serious? Surely her husband was witness to this awkward situation.

I laughed, trying to pretend I thought she was joking.

“Celia,” Mrs Fontaine huffed, saving me. “Leave my staff alone, for goodness’ sake.”

“Just having a little bit of fun, Isabel.” She looked me up and down again and ran her tongue over her top lip. “This one is scrumptious.”

“Remind me of your name,” Mrs Fontaine said, appearing stressed.

“It’s Leo, ma’am.”

“Okay. Leo. Can you please take the empty bottles to the recycling bins? I don’t like seeing them in view of the guests. You’ll find them around the side of the main house next to the parking area.”

“Of course, Mrs Fontaine.”

“Also, can you keep an eye out for my daughter while you’re there? She should have arrived by now in a red Mini.”

I filled up a milk crate with empty bottles and made my way around the veranda through an open courtyard area. A large wooden gate led out to the parking area, filled with an array of luxury cars. The bins were in a fenced-off enclosure just to my right, so I set about emptying the crate.

As I dropped the last bottle into the bin, I heard a screeching of tyres on the crushed granite driveway. The car I’d been sent to look out for came careening down the drive and expertly swung into the only available spot between two Porsche Cayennes.

I could see her silhouette from where I stood. She switched the engine off but turned the internal light on and flipped the mirror down. She was obviously fixing her makeup before she entered the lion’s den, or maybe the lioness’ in this case. I hadn’t heard any reference to a Mr Fontaine. I was just about to step forward and offer her an escort—it had become suddenly very dark in the last hour—when Richard the toolbox stormed over to her car and pulled the door open.

“What time do you call this, Juliette?” he asked, tapping his watch.

The light in the car went out, and a figure dressed in white was pulled from the car, a little too roughly for my liking. My instinct had me stepping out into view, ready to intervene.

“You were meant to be here two hours ago to listen to my speech,” he continued as she locked the car.

She said nothing. Her shoulders were slumped forward, clearly resigned to this type of treatment. If they looked my way, they would see me, but he was oblivious and she was staring at the ground.

I took another step forward and my shoe crunched on the gravel. They both snapped their heads up.

“What are you doing snooping around back here?” Richard asked, clearly unnerved. “Just can’t get good help these days,” he muttered when I failed to acknowledge him.

I ignored the fact that this guy was a fucking cliché with his head up his arse. I ignored the fact that in different circumstances, I would rearrange his smug face and I’d enjoy it. I ignored everything because I was locked in a shocked stare. Juliette—I allowed her name to float through my mind. It was her. She was even more painfully beautiful than I’d been able to appreciate the night before across the cage.

My mind reeled, trying to process her transformation from dark angel to fancy rich girl and passive doormat to this schmuck. White lace hugged her perfect body, and her long blonde hair hung in gentle waves over her left shoulder. Her wide eyes and the fact she was yet to release her breath let me know she recognised me too. Fear passed across her features and I felt compelled to help her.

“Sorry to startle you, miss. Your mother asked me to see if you’d arrived and needed an escort.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly and she let out a small breath.

“Well, as you can see, my girlfriend doesn’t need an escort from you,” Richard stated. “You have guests to serve. Now run—”

“Richard!” Juliette cut him off but then gently placed her hand on his arm.

My body flinched seeing her touch him. I didn’t know her, yet I felt a primal connection to this girl. There was something very wrong with this picture. I just didn’t know what it was beyond the fact that Dick was punching well above his weight range.

“I know you’re annoyed with me for being late,” she continued. “And you’re nervous about your speech, but there’s no need to be so rude to this man.” Her dark navy-blue eyes caught mine again.

“Don’t patronise me, Juliette. Now, let’s go. This isn’t like you at all.” He pointed in the direction of where the party was being held. “The guests are already here.”

Without waiting for her, he strode off. She stared at his back but made no move to follow him.

“Sorry about that,” Juliette whispered, staring at her feet.

I felt irritated and, if I was honest, disappointed that she would apologise on his behalf, but then again, he was her boyfriend. What did that say about her? “It’s none of my business, but please don’t apologise for him.”

She gently kicked the gravel with her shoes and shrugged her shoulders before she looked at me again. Her eyes were suddenly void of emotion, vacant and dull as if she’d pulled a mask down over her face.

“I’ll walk you in,” I suggested, breaking the silence.

“No need. I can take care of myself.” Without looking at me again, she walked away, leaving me standing there dumbfounded. Dressed in white, she looked more like an angel, but my intuition told me she didn’t belong here either. She was just caught in a different kind of hell.

Snapping out of it, I walked quickly to catch up but didn’t speak when I fell in next to her. Before we rounded the back corner of the veranda, I glanced to my right. She didn’t look at me. I could tell she was bracing herself.

“Good luck,” I said. I wanted to say so much more but couldn’t. I wanted to ask her what she’d been doing at fight night but couldn’t. I wanted to ask her why she was with such a douche. But most of all, I wanted to protect her from whatever she was about to face. She was a breathtakingly beautiful walking contradiction, and I was wildly attracted to her.

She looked at me as if for the first time. It was disconcerting.

“Okay then.” I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head, waiting for some sort of reaction. When none came, I walked away shaking my head. I had to get back to work anyway.