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An Endless Summer(21)

By:C. J. Duggan


Strangely, I didn’t feel so embarrassed over a few cans of baked beans anymore.



***



I carried the essentials, such as food and hygiene products, up the hill back to the Onslow and, even toting so few items, the trip up the steep incline just about killed me. My home delivery would be coming later in the day; it would give me enough time to think about what the hell I was doing before I set myself to do more cleaning. This was not the summer I had planned for, that was for sure.

My arm muscles burned by the time I lugged myself across the drive. I spotted Sean and Stan sitting on the steps of the Onslow, talking animatedly and nursing bottles of Gatorade.

Stan saw me first, and it wasn’t until I had closed the distance that Sean’s gaze followed Stan’s. Stan jumped up and grabbed my bags and I tried not to sigh in relief.

“I bet a lift never looked so good.” Sean saluted me with his drink.

“That’s not all that looks good around here, apparently,” I said.

“Oh?” Sean quirked his brow before taking a drink from his bottle.

“Mmm, I overheard some horny housewives in the supermarket, and apparently you, Mr Murphy, can leave your drill piece under their pillow any day of the week.”

Sean spat out a stream of blue Gatorade that led him into a coughing fit. Stan burst into hysterics and barely contained himself as Sean fought to catch his breath, his eyes watering.

I smiled and stretched my arms above my head. “Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”

I grabbed the bags from Stan and, without a backwards glance, made my way inside.



***



After psyching myself up for the next challenge, I cleaned out Dad’s fridge. It wasn’t pretty. At first I doubted if it would ever be the same; the smell of the rot and wet goo at the bottom of the veggie drawer was enough to make me dry retch. I had scrubbed and rubbed it within an inch of its life. Now it was ready for some non-expired food.

I placed the shopping in the bar cool room until I’d faced off with the fridge. Just as I was about to yank the heavy cool room door open, the hotel phone rang. I flinched at the high-pitched sound; that phone never rang – well, not while I was ever here, anyway. Surely Mum and Dad would ring my mobile?

I eyed the phone like it was some cornered, deadly creature. I picked it up.

“H-Hello?”

A loud chorus of coughing made me flinch away from the receiver.

“Amy?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, hey, it’s Matt,” a raspy voice spoke softly into the receiver.

“What’s up, Matt?” Although, I could probably guess.

“Yeah, listen, I won’t be able to make it into work today.” Cough-cough-cough. “I’ve been up all night, crook as a dog.”

“Oh, no. That’s awful,” I said, without any enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I’m just going to sleep all day. Hopefully it’s just a twenty-four-hour thing.”

“Here’s hoping!”

I slammed down the phone, thus ending the coughing attack.

“Wanker!”

“Nice to know it’s not just me who cops it.”

I flinched to see Sean standing at the bar.

“Jesus, Sean, don’t you knock?”

He shrugged. “It’s a public place.”

A closed public place.

I couldn’t be bothered arguing.

“What do you want?”

“I need to access upstairs.”

I did a mental check of upstairs; it was less smoke-infused than it had been yesterday, and at least it was now dust and grime free: passable for public inspection.

“Okay.”

I felt Sean’s eyes burning into the back of me as his heavy footsteps followed me up the staircase.

“So you’re going to be a home owner, I hear,” I said over my shoulder.

“Indeed.”

“The Ellermans’ lake house?”

We reached the apartment door. I could hear Sean chuckling so I turned to see him shaking his head.

“What?”

“You went into town for a few hours and now you know all the goss.”

“Well, not all of it.”

Sean stood so close to me on the landing. It was a hot summer day and the upstairs was always warm if the doors weren’t open for the air flow to filter through the building. I felt claustrophobic as I reached my sweaty palm out to the handle of the apartment door. I could open it, walk in, create more space between us, but Sean’s eyes pinned me there; they questioned me with a mocking glint and a crooked curve to the corner of his mouth.

“Tell me, Amy, it wasn’t you asking the locals about me, was it?”

I blanched, horrified by the question. “No!”

“You sure? You weren’t looking for a character reference?”