An Endless Summer(46)

He held up his hands in defeat and backed away, sporting a huge grin as he did so. “I’ll leave you two to it, shall I?”

“Chris,” I whispered. “Come back here!” My eyes darted to the cooler and then glowered back at him as he saluted and walked through the swinging kitchen door.

I moved to follow him when I was jolted by the unexpected sound of Melba’s raised voice.

“Would you look at that?” She held out a mouldy pot with what looked like something that had once been a piece of … broccoli?

I grimaced. “Gross. I bet if you poked that with a fork it would say ‘ouch’.”

“Absolutely … dis-gus-ting!” Melba enunciated the words like a hoity school ma’am, and even though I loved her more than anyone in the world right now for coming to help me out, it didn’t mean it was going to be a barrel of laughs.



***



A yawn escaped from me and I could feel my bones click as I stretched, walking through to the main bar. After spending the day cleaning the kitchen with Melba, I was exhausted. Even so, I still managed to throw Chris a good scowl as I walked past him.

“Finished?” He raised his brows in amusement.

I would have given him a forked-tongued retort, but I instantly saw that he hadn’t exactly been slacking these past four hours. The mahogany bar shone and I could smell the furniture polish as soon as I walked through the doors. The tray that edged around the bar’s base designed for wayward cigarettes and rubbish had also been emptied and polished. The floorboards still had that streak of freshly washed dampness to them.

It seemed a shame to lean on the newly polished bar, but I was so tired. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes.

“We’re finished for today.”

“How long before we’re up and running in the kitchen?” Chris asked.

I sighed. “We’ll hit it hard tomorrow and then go and look at getting some food, work out a basic menu to begin with and trial it on a lunch shift.”

I half expected Chris to comment on what a great plan that was, but he didn’t reply.

I lifted my head up and looked at him expectantly. His eyebrows were furrowed as he gave me a long, side-on look.

“What?” I straightened. “What’s wrong?”

“You look so pale.”

“Gee, thanks.” I self-consciously ran my fingers through my hair.

“I’m just saying you look washed out. When’s the last time you left this place? Took some time off?”

“I went down the street the other day,” I quipped.

“Running hotel errands doesn’t count.”

“I went to the hospital to see Dad.”

“That definitely doesn’t count.”

I shrugged. “Well I just have to get on with it.”

“How about you take a break, get some fresh air?”

“What about you?”

“I’m fresh blood, remember? I only blew in last night.”

A break from the Onslow did sound rather amazing – to be able to sit elsewhere in the peace and quiet, the sun on my face, the reflection off the water. What bliss.

“You should go for a swim or something, perk yourself right up.”

Chris’s words were the equivalent of a record being scratched; they wrenched me from my daydream. A coldness swept through my body as my heart spiked in a panic at the very thought of going into that lake. It was something I hadn’t done since that night, something I had no intention of revisiting ever.

“Wow. By that reaction I’m guessing that’s a no.”

“I think I’ll just go for a walk,” I said. “Get some vitamin D.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Chris said as he poked the recess of the ice bucket with a spoon.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“Go, before I change my mind.”

He didn’t need to voice it again. I dodged around the bar stool and, with a new-found energy, grabbed the front door and it let out that old, familiar screech as I threw it open. A warm, summer breeze hit my face and all of a sudden I didn’t feel the least bit tired; I had never felt more alive.



***



Okay, so it wasn’t far. I didn’t go on some grand adventure, but still the view was amazing. I had bolted across the grassy embankments that headed down to flatter ground and down towards the jetty. A long line of boats dotted the water along the way, the distant echoes from thrill-seekers ringing out along the long mass of sweeping water that stretched as far as the eye could see. I hunched over, catching my breath.

Christ, I was unfit. Still, why wouldn’t I be? I couldn’t exactly go frolicking among the suburban streets of the city, Julie Andrews-style. The city had always lacked such conveniences; it had been perfect for Mum and her high-spending lifestyle but when she’d upped and moved while I was at boarding school, no one had bothered to ask me what I wanted. I guess I lost that right: sneaking out, binge drinking and nearly drowning; the parental trifecta of horror.