It was then that it dawned on me. “Sean, are you afraid of heights?”
“Can you just get down from there?” he snapped.
“How can a builder be afraid of heights? It’s like a doctor being afraid of blood.”
“Amy,” his voice warned.
I should have enjoyed watching him suffer, but somehow, seeing Sean paralysed with fear like that was not in the least bit satisfying.
“All right, all right.” I jumped down from the ledge. “You okay?”
“You know those things that seem like a good idea at the time?”
“Yeah.”
He swallowed. “Well, this was one of them.”
Chapter Eleven
“Hi, love, how’s everything going?”
I cringed at the sound of my dad’s voice on the phone. I had been distracted mid-mop of the bar room floor when I answered my mobile without even looking at the screen.
“Oh, hey, Dad. Yeah, everything’s good.”
Aside from the hypochondriac bartender and the builder with vertigo, everything was just Jim-dandy.
“And how’s Matt going? He’s a top young bloke. If you need anything you just let him know and he’ll take care of it.”
I frowned at my phone. Was he talking about the same Matt?
“Uh, yeah, he’s good.” I tried to put the mop silently back into the bucket.
“Has it been busy?”
Oh God! Talk about asking tough questions.
“Oh, you know, it’s pretty steady, but I don’t think the summer crowd has kicked in yet.”
Lies, lies, lies.
“Well, when things pick up like it always does over summer, Matt says he has a few mates that can help out.”
Matt’s mates? I could just imagine.
“We’ll see how we go.”
“That a girl! I bet you’re too busy working on your tan anyway. You just leave the business side to Matt and enjoy yourself.”
I tried my best not to openly scoff.
“How’s Mum?”
“Well, that’s why I called.”
My heart clenched. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah – of course – sorry to scare you. I just called to let you know that I’m surprising your mother with a trip away.”
My heart started hammering against my ribs again and I let out a breath I hadn’t even known I was holding. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”
“A trip down the coast, you know, like she often talks about?”
Actually, Mum mooned over Europe mostly, but I guess this was Dad’s compromise.
“Do you think she’ll like it?” His voice had a childlike hopefulness to it. Knowing how materialistic and superficial Mum was, I was in no doubt that she would love it.
“As long as it’s luxurious and not camping, I’m sure it’ll be right up her alley.”
“That’s what I thought.” He could barely contain his excitement. “I’m taking her out for dinner tonight, going to spring it on her with a gift voucher to a spa … on the coast.” He chuckled to himself, humoured by his genius plan.
It was hard to hold a grudge against him, hearing him so upbeat and excited. It was a side of Dad I had not grown up with, so this new midlife-crisis persona was really unusual.
“Well, good luck!” I said. “No doubt I’ll get an enthusiastic phone call from Mum later.”
“Here’s hoping, hey?”
An awkward silence settled over us, as the conversation dried up.
“Well, better let you go, you’re probably itching to get down lakeside with your friends.”
I looked at the mop bucket. “Yeah, sure am.”
“Before you go, love, your mother and I talked about it and thought, seeing as you’re going to be in Onslow for the summer, we’d pop some money into your account. You know, for incidentals and stuff for the hotel. I know you have your own money but just in case you need anything.”
My heart spiked in approval. “Uh, yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Dad.”
“No worries. If you need any more just let us know.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.”
***
Holy frack!
I stared wide-eyed at my ATM receipt. There were way more zeros than I had expected. “Incidentals.” I gathered, were for cleaning products and basically everything Matt didn’t seem to think it necessary to stock up on, like soap or toilet paper. At nineteen, I felt kind of guilty receiving any kind of allowance; it was kind of princessy, but it was also how our family worked. I had always been in a comfortably wealthy family and Dad provided for me and Mum and we didn’t question it. But now, I was questioning.
Where was it coming from? How was Dad affording to dish out money like it was growing off a tree when the Onslow was literally falling down around me? Obviously he had invested way too much trust in Matt the Rat, and Matt was no doubt feeding him utter falsehoods over how the business was running. Had to be, or else Dad would have done something.