Too late. She'd already done what she swore she'd never do: have sex with a stranger for cash. Sure, Jay was no stranger, but she wouldn't have done it if it weren't for the money. Money her brother didn't deserve and would never get. Money she didn't want because it branded her a prostitute. "FUCK!"
She'd take the money to Maxima in the morning and give it back to Jay. She had to, or she'd be no better than Penny. Worse, even. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if that's what she'd become.
FIFTY-THREE
The thought of that envelope of dirty money burned in her mind all night, not letting her sleep. At 5am, Audra finally gave in and switched on the light. She'd find the envelope, write a note to Jay and slip it under the door to Maxima. Or drop it on the doormat, seeing as a wad of cash that thick might not fit under the door. Now, she just needed to remember where she'd put it...
Audra searched the desk, but came up with nothing except empty envelopes. Had she put it somewhere safe and forgotten? It'd been an exhausting week, after all. She checked the cupboard, then her suitcase, her heart sinking further with every moment that passed without finding the money. But she had to. She needed to find it to return it to Jay, or she'd always know she was tainted. No one else knew about it but her, so it had to be here. She repeated her search, shaking out all her clothes before putting them back.
Still nothing.
Now more than a little frantic, she peered under the furniture, wondering if it'd ended up on the floor. Under the bed? Nope. The rubbish bin! Maybe she'd accidentally thrown it out. Pawing through the tissues and other waste brought her failure home to her like nothing else. Rooting through rubbish in search for absolution for her actions. As if Jay would forgive her, or she needed him to. No, she wouldn't ever forgive herself.
Eventually, she realised there weren't any envelopes or money in the bin and her hands were as soiled as the rest of her, if not more. She should go and wash. Rising stiffly, she stumbled along the boardwalk to the communal staff bathrooms. She was mercifully alone with her thoughts as she scrubbed her hands with soap. Over and over again, but never feeling clean. It wasn't the feeling of crumpled-up tissues in her hands she was trying to wash away. It was the feel of his hard muscles under her fingers as he placed her hand on his belly. The deep purr of his voice telling her he wanted to hear her scream. She hadn't even given him that satisfaction. Even for a prostitute, she'd been a disappointment. He should be banging down her door, asking for a refund. And she owed it to him, her accusing reflection insisted.
What she really wanted was to go back to that night with Jay and forget about the money. To surrender to him utterly for just one night, for that was all it would have been, but one blissful night. A memory she'd treasure for the rest of her life. Now...even the memory of his touch was tainted.
He'd bought the hotel, she remembered with a jolt. How could she face him, after what she'd done? She couldn't work here during the wet season. She'd run into him again on this tiny island and every time would be a stab to her heart, knowing that she'd lied to him out of sheer greed. She'd done it for her family, but that didn't excuse her. How in hell could she tell him she'd taken his money over the pleasure he'd promised so her brother could supply drugs to his crack whore? Real classy.
She needed a job in meteorology, somewhere far from here. It was probably too early, but maybe there'd be news about her job application. She'd forgotten to check her email last night, so she should probably rectify that before breakfast. It wasn't like sleep would return to her any time soon. Better to keep her mind busy.
When she settled in front of her laptop, Audra forced herself to breathe deeply. There wouldn't be any good news yet, but she had to hold on to hope now. She scanned through a week's worth of messages, deleting all the advertising until she found one from Leon dated yesterday, telling her to hurry up and send the money already. She stabbed her finger at the touchpad, feeling more than a little satisfaction at deleting that particular message. The remaining ones on the screen moved up and she spotted one she hadn't before – with the tantalising subject line:
GRADUATE OFFICER APPLICATION
She held her breath as the message downloaded from the server, revealing what was probably just an automatic response, telling her she hadn't been successful or when to give up hope if she hadn't heard from them. But as she started reading, she discovered it was more than a polite rejection letter. They wanted her for an interview in – Audra gulped – three days' time. She thought she had a day off then. But she had to contact them to arrange a time...
Her fingers ticked frantically over the keyboard, apologising for being out of phone and email contact, but she'd be available for an interview any time that day. Phone or video call, she added, as she worked at a remote site and travel was difficult to arrange around her present roster. As if she could afford to fly to Melbourne for a job interview.
If she found Jay's money and chose not to return it, she could, a nasty voice in her head taunted. Oh, it was her own voice, she knew, the same one that seemed fixed on reminding her at every moment that she was a whore for taking the money in the first place. Should've taken the incredible sex for what it was...
A tentative knock sounded at the door.
"Yes?" Audra squeaked, then cleared her throat and added in a more normal tone, "Who is it?" She sent the email and turned her eyes to the door.
"It's me," said Serge. "I wanted to see how you are this morning. Especially after last night."
Audra rose and cracked open the door. "You heard my video call, huh?"
He shrugged. "I've been wondering what the going rate is for gigolos who service residents at the retirement home. If it pays better than personal training, I'll have to keep it in mind."
Much-needed laughter bubbled up in her throat. "I can just imagine all those little old ladies dying to get their hands on you!"
"Dying's probably the right word. If I give the old girls a heart attack, they might not pay me. Hmm, maybe I should stick to what I'm good at." His expression softened. "No matter how bad you feel about what you said, you did the right thing. You deserve to live your own life. Good on you for telling them now instead of when you're on a much bigger salary. Imagine how much crack you'd be buying for your brother's girlfriend when you're not making beds. Is your brother really dating a crack whore? I didn't think they were allowed to date."
She managed a smile. "I doubt it. It's probably just pot. Weed. Or is it ice, the one that makes people stay up all night? Whatever. Not my problem now." She took a deep breath. "About the job I applied for. I...heard back from them today."
"And? When's the interview?"
Audra laughed. "Spoil my news, why don't you? In three days. I thought they weren't interviewing for months, but I guess I was wrong. They even sent the interview questions so I can adequately prepare, or at least that's what it says. How do you prepare for an interview?"
"Oh, you just get someone to ask them and you make up responses. Practice, I guess. Must be an important job if they think you need to prepare for the questions."
"Can you help me with them?" she blurted out, then wished she hadn't. She never asked for favours, because then she'd never be disappointed. Like she'd told her brother, she had to stand on her own two feet and not rely on someone else to support her. "Oh, never mind. I shouldn't have asked."
"I wouldn't know whether to predict sunshine or rain tomorrow, if that's what you're asking, but if you want me to put on my best drill-sergeant voice that I keep for boot camps and hit you with all the hard questions, I'm your man." Serge winked. "Hey, I still owe you for helping me clean up carnage. Friends help friends dispose of bodies, as well as land their dream jobs. What sort of paradise are they planning on sending you to?"
"I don't know yet," she admitted. "We don't get assigned a weather station until we've definitely got the job and there's some training we're supposed to do first, so maybe not even then."
"Tell me when. Any evening this week. We'll take some beers down to the Penguin jetty, I'll interrogate you until you break and then we'll both drink to dreams."
"Tonight, then, or maybe tomorrow, depending on how much mess those conference delegates left behind," Audra said. "There's boxes everywhere in one of the seminar rooms where they put all the conference materials together. I heard they were supposed to take everything with them when they left, but I guess someone wasn't listening. I hope the boxes are all empty."
"It's a date." Serge headed off, whistling.
A date. But whores didn't date. She had to find that money, so she could be a normal person again. One who hadn't sold her body and her soul – if she even had one. Who knew?
FIFTY-FOUR
Audra lifted what felt like the millionth box and she'd lost count of the number of times she'd cursed the conference organisers. They'd bought boxes full of conference programmes that weren't any use to anyone now. Whole forests of trees had been felled for no reason. Now they'd be recycled into cheap toilet paper, or that's what she'd heard. All the hotel's waste paper and cardboard was sold to some recycling company. They'd have a shipload from this bunch.
"Oh, not another one!" Pamela's expression was thunderous as she shifted the box carefully off the top of the stack. The one beneath it tipped dangerously and Audra opened her mouth to issue a warning. Too late. It fell over, scattering round, blue things all over the floor.