Adelaide Rainbow Bridge E-Book

Anja Grafton

• Herausgeber: Europa Edizioni
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

When Kayley and her brother Stephen decide to buy and renovate an old house near the beach in west Adelaide, murder was the last thing on either of their minds. The body found under their newly built patio changes everything. It turns out to be Stephen’s ex-fiancé. To make matters worse when interviewed by the police a connection is found between Stephen and another murdered victim, his former teacher. With Stephen arrested, Kayley struggles to complete the renovations and clear her brother of murder. 
All this started after Adam ran into Kayley, the girl he believed he was in love with 13 years ago. This chance meeting starts a sequence of murderous events. In his twisted mind, Adam sets about killing those he believes stand in his way of claiming his prize - Kayley. 
This is where Matthew appears like a guardian angel. His father Adam convinces him that this is the chance he has been waiting for to rebuild a friendship and repair an old wound with Stephen. However, Adam is playing a darker game. As he kills one person after the other, an idea enters his mind he believes is so brilliant, make Stephen the fall guy. 
Kayley and her siblings set a trap against police advice. They manage to capture Matthew, but Kayley is kidnapped in the process. For three days Adam holds her in his basement, dreaming of their upcoming wedding and their new life together. Believing she is finally ready and willing to marry him, he showers her with a lavish dinner he made. It is during this meal she manages to escape into the arms of the police.
When the police have him in custody, they realize he will never set foot in a courtroom. 

Anja Grafton was born in Germany and moved to Australia when she was five years old. She lived in several states in Australia including NWS, Vic, and now SA.
She completed her BA in humanities in 1989, followed by her Secondary Teaching Degree in 1990, her BA in Creative Writing in 1996 and her Masters in Creative Writing in 1997. She also played in the Navy Reserve Band in SA for eight years and enjoyed every moment.
She has always had pets either cats or dogs or both and she is, at present, the Rally Instructor at the Woodville Dog Club where her fourteen and half year-old Kelpie – Fox Terrier Cross called Sam, helps her instruct her students.
She enjoys walking, reading, writing, drawing and playing the flute. She loves living in the west of Adelaide and walking along the beaches.

Leseprobe

Anja Grafton

Adelaide Rainbow Bridge

© 2023 Europe Books| London www.europebooks.co.uk | [email protected]

ISBN 979-12-201-1737-1

First edition: June 2023

Adelaide Rainbow Bridge

Chapter 1

Her blue eyes stare out from beneath a very masculine looking pair of goggles. She is nearly done. Only the main wall left to sand. She arches her back, in the hope of stretching out the massive ache that has settled itself within her shoulders and spine. Next she surveys the mammoth area she has managed to complete since seven this morning. A smile creeps across her lips, under the small white paper mask she wears to keep the fine white dust out of her lungs. They are right, she thought. It does give her pride an inner glow knowing she completed all this. Yet there is no time for admiring her work, she still has the widest wall to complete. Her gaze falls upon the sander. There is still enough sandpaper left to do the job at hand. With the flick of her right index finger, the machine she bought two days ago whirls into life. She holds it up against the wall, running it over the plastered patches in a circular motion. Within seconds she can barely see the wall with all the white dust the sander is throwing up. Her forearms are covered in white instantly. By the end of this day she will need that warm inviting shower.

Kayley is almost finished when a familiar voice calls from somewhere in back, beckoning her to lunch. She switches the sander off and placed it on the orange crate she is using as a table. As she walks out of the room, she turns the power point off, a habit she inherited from her father. His story of how he could have lost everything in his garden shed if he had not turned the power off, due to a faulty wiring job, is something she grew up with. Every time one of them forgets to turn the power off or unplug a cord, they are all in for a long odious lecture. Maybe that is why none of her brothers, nor her sister ever thought of joining the fire department. If she really thinks about it, living up to her father’s standards is almost impossible.

‘Kayley your food is getting cold,’ a voice from the next room shouts.

‘Coming Stephen,’ she replies brushing the dust of her blue overalls as best she could. She always knew her old navy overalls would come in handy one day.

She walks through the newly constructed doorway, and there sitting on an orange crate is her strong burly figured younger brother. His blond hair shaved down to a number one. In one hand a burger and in the other a thick shake.

‘MacDonald’s again!’

A naughty smile crosses his round face and these blue eyes sparkle as he put down his drink and says, ‘you wanted something quick and easy sis, and there is nothing easier than a burger. Anyway, I went to Hungry Jacks today. Here, though you don’t deserve it.’ He holds out a brown paper bag waiting for her to take it. ‘You could have dolled yourself up a bit,’ he remarks giving her a once over. Her pretty face is covered in fine white power except around her blue eyes and mouth area. Even her long reddish-brown hair is covered in dust. That dark blue overall makes her tall, curvy figure look frumpish and small.

Kayley shakes her head trying to cover him in a little of the dust as she takes the bag from him and opens it. To her surprise it contains a small red box.

‘What’s this?’

‘Open it.’

The smell of satay fills her nostrils.

‘I thought you would like something different, although you don’t deserve it,’ he says brushing the dust of his pants. ‘I hope chicken satay is alright.’ He watches as her face lights up. ‘You better start eating, Dad will be here soon. Oh, did you turn the power point off, ‘cause I don’t want another of his lectures

8

today. I have a date tonight.’ he smirks at her, waiting for a reply.

Instead his sister just smiles and nods her head. She knows what this means. He has found another “internet chick”. One that claims to have found his photo appealing, but is really after something else. So far, his track record is anything but brilliant. She wonders where this one is from. The last one claims to have loved him, even went as far as getting engaged, buying a house together and then dumping him. She played the family well, especially their mother. A woman of European background, good education and an instinct for shadiness, fell right into her web. Their mother opened her heart without question. Loved her like a daughter. When Stephen came home and said it was all over. Mum could not believe it. But after trying to get in contact to no avail, she finally realised what had happened. It is funny how everyone else in the family knew why this woman has done this, except Stephen. As a child he always believed what the girls told him. They could spin him a far-fetched story and he would believe it. He is a nice guy but easily manipulated. For his sake, she hopes this new one will be different.

‘So how far did you get?’ a mumbled voice asks, between bites of his hamburger.

‘Finished it all. No thanks to you hiding the tools.’

‘Not bad sis, but I didn’t hide any tools.’

Kayley stares at him. Is this another one of his pranks?

‘Well, Dad’s medium size hammer is missing.’

Stephen shrugs his shoulders. ‘It wasn’t me!’

‘That makes three tools so far. Either you hid them.’ She holds her hands up, ‘or there is a thief doing some late-night shopping at our expense.’

‘Well that isn’t likely, unless one of us is leaving the doors unlocked at night. And I know it’s not me.’ he glares back at his sister. With a change in tone he asks, ‘so what do you want me to do?’

‘We need to get the paint on the walls. Don’t make such a face, I did the worst of the job already. Look at me.’

‘You do look like Frankenstein’s Monster.’

‘Why you rat! Just for that, you get to paint all the ceilings, bubs.’ She hands him the new extendable roller. ‘The paint is just outside the first room. Oh, and you will need this, unless you plan on dipping the roller into the paint tin.’

‘Now that’s an idea.’

‘Just take it.’ She holds out a painting tray.

‘You really know how to spoil all my fun.’ He sulks taking the tray from her. ‘You know Mum would have let me at least try the idea.’

‘Or she would tell you not to be stupid.’ ‘Whatever!’ he declares heading out the door.

Kayley shakes her head. ‘Brothers, who would have them?’

‘Sisters like you.’ Came the quick reply from down the passage.

Chapter 2

The table is laid for one - cold cuts, cheeses, rolls, salads, bread and drinks. The food is laid out on an old rickety square card table. He sips his glass of iced tea and sits quietly.

Across from him a range of expressions form on her face. Her voice slurs as she salivates, and now and then the saliva dribbles uncontrollably from the corner of her mouth.

He puffs out to his cheeks and exhales with a sigh, straightens his back and stares into her eyes. His smile vanishes as quickly as it had appeared. He gives her a stern look as he rises from his seat and heads towards her. He runs a cold finger down her shoulder blade, then takes her by the chin and forces her to look him in the eyes.

With an almighty force he backhands her across the face. She is stunned, her face burning with pain. Now looking her straight in the eyes and without flinching, anger flashes across his face. He takes a deep breath, then squeezes his lips tightly together as if he intends to say something, but instead gives her another slap soundly across the face with the back of his hand.

This time she shrieks and tries desperately to protect her injured face. A smile crosses his thin lips, he notices there is something mysteriously attractive about her now, dangerously seductive even. He has seen it in the way her date watched her every move.

As his eyes gaze down her body, he notices her hands are now particularly thin, the skin stretches tightly over the bones of the knuckles and her fingers are red. Her face is so emaciated with its stark hollow eyes, and cheekbones and her newly cropped hair. Her left arm is covered with puncture marks. He runs his finger slowly over the reddened skin. She looks down at her arm and her face shows no emotion. He takes up the alcohol bottle and a cotton bud. Then he proceeds to lift the hem of her skirt above her thighs. He rubs her flesh with the alcohol, then plunges the syringe deep into her skin. She winces as he inserts the needle into her wrinkly thin white thigh. He smiles at the fluid slowly enters her body.

Once seated again he reaches across to pour from the jug. He sips his iced-tea, preoccupied by something. His face bares the marks of a man trying to think of what he had forgotten. A vein beats in his temple. He suddenly feels very tired. There is only one more question he needs to ask. He searches her face, and has seen the answer in her eyes. Had he but known what to expect! He should have, the signs have been plain enough. He smiles with a twist to his lips. Then takes a long, deep breath and let it out slowly.

All of a sudden, her eyes widen. Fear tightens her throat, and her heart pounds.

Chapter 3

Time passes quickly for both siblings. While Stephen paints ceiling after ceiling, Kayley is still having trouble with that stain. No matter how much sugar soap she uses, the stain remains. In the end, she decides a good lick of paint will do the job.

‘That is the last ceiling.’

‘Great,’ she says stretching her aching back again.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘See that stain. No matter what I throw at it, it won’t budge.’

He walks over to the far corner and rubs his hand over the patch. It is very smooth, yet a rich mustardy colour. Kayley watches as he examines the wall.

‘There is also a faint odour,’ she remarks as he bends his head closer. ‘I thought I’d ask Dad when he comes. Maybe there is dead rat or cat behind there.’

‘It’s a funny place to find a dead cat, in an interior wall, yet stranger things have happened. Don’t look so worried. We’ll let Dad look at it and paint this room tomorrow. Come on there are other walls to be painted. I bet you I can finish my room before you.’

‘Really!’ she smirks at him.

‘You bet. Now what colour did we decide on.’

‘Antique white for the living area, and a warm white for the bedrooms.’

‘That sounds about right. So, when is the wallpaper guy coming?’

‘Do you think light grey would have been for the bedrooms?’

‘No! So, when is he coming?’

‘Coming? Who?’

‘The wallpaper guy!’

‘Him!’ She takes a deep breath, before whispering, ‘he’s not.

It seems he double booked our job.’

‘So, let him send one of his people.’

‘That’s not going to work.’ She looks at her brother. ‘He works alone.’

‘You have got to be kidding.’

‘Now hold on. It’s not so bad. I have managed to get someone else.’

‘You have! Great. When are they coming?’

‘He is coming tomorrow.’

‘He!’

Kayley sees her brother’s face darken. He looks at her in a way he has never looked at her before. It frightens her.

‘Please don’t tell me you asked him.’ His tone conveying total disgust.

‘I had too!’ She sees his heavy jaw thrust out further than usual. For a moment, he broods quietly. ‘Look, Matthew is the only one I could get at such short notice. In fact, if I hadn’t run into Tom yesterday, well I don’t know what would have happened.’ She sees the expression change on her brother’s face.

‘Tom! Don’t tell me you are...’

‘No, off cause not. I just ran into him. He was very polite and suggested I ring Matt, in fact, he rang him there and then.’ She watches the colour drain slightly from his face. ‘I know, I know, but what else could I do? He is coming tomorrow to show us how to do it.’

‘You know I can’t stand that snake. If you... ‘he pauses shaking his head as if that will remove the image that suddenly enters his mind. Kayley waits for him to finish his sentence, but that is in vain. Stephen stares at her. If she only knew. Then regaining control of his tongue, he proclaims, ‘the way he walks into a room as if he owns the place, and that high-pitched voice of his. It’s enough to make me puke.’

‘It’s only for a couple of hours.’

‘That’s two hours too many.’ His eyes still blazing bright with anger as she notices his hands clench tight.

‘Still, it is nice of him to offer his help, and we need all the help we can get to finish this place in the next four months.’ She smiles sweetly, knowing he cannot resist her beaming smile.

He wonders if they would ever get this Edwardian/ Federation House back to its original glory. ‘Tell you what, you let Matthew teach you how to hang wallpaper and then you can teach me. What do you say?’

‘I say don’t be late home from your date. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Matthew will be here at 8 am and we

need to paint the wall in the final bedroom.’

‘Man,’ her little brother utters hanging his head.

‘You know I’m right,’ she says placing her arm round his shoulders, ‘for we can’t sell a half-renovated house.’ Stephen eyes her. ‘OK we could, but we wouldn’t get anymore for this place than we paid for a half-renovated house. Anyway, think of how beautiful this house will be once we are finished. Who knows we might decide to keep it for ourselves.’

‘Us living together! We would kill each other in less than a week.’

‘Really! You do realise we have been working here,

together, for the past six weeks.’

‘And it has been a bed roses each and every day!’

‘Nice to know brotherly love is still around. Maybe you should stay away tomorrow.’

‘Great!’

‘Not so fast little brother. If you want a share of the profits, you have to do your share of the work, and that includes learning how to hang wallpaper.’

Stephen sighs. He knows he cannot win against her. ‘Tomorrow at 8 it is, but I have to go now,’ he states looking at his wristwatch. ‘By the way can you handle Dad on your own? He said he would drop by at 1800 hours, and I would like to be out of here by then.’

‘Sure, but I think he’s here. I heard a car pull up. If you want to leave go out the back, now.’

‘You’re the best,’ he remarks before planting a kiss on her cheek.

*

Leaving so soon, Stephen? What will your father, think?

Chapter 4

‘Hello. Anyone here?’ a deep voice calls from just inside the front door.

‘Dad, I’m in the back bedroom’.

As she waits for her father, Kayley stares at the wall. That stained area makes her feel a little uneasy. The previous owner must have tried to remove that discoloured patch. No one would be so stupid and try and paint over such a stain. Suddenly she is horror struck. What if he did and the patch reappeared? How would they ever sell this place?

‘There you are,’ her father says in his mellow tone. ‘On your own again I see. So, what is your brother up to this time!

Bumblebee?’

‘Sorry Dad. What’s that?’

‘Where’s your brother? or should I say what is he up to!’

‘Stephen! What makes you think he’s up to something?’

‘It’s 6 pm, you’re here, and I can’t hear any other sounds.’

‘How do you know I didn’t send him on an errand, Father?’

‘As I said it’s six pm and everything has closed in sleepy old Adelaide. Plus, I know your brother.’

Kayley just smiles and turns her attention back to the wall. ‘Dad, have you ever seen anything like that?’ she says pointing to the stain.’ I have tried sanding it, replacing part of it, and even washing it with sugar soap, but nothing I do seems to budge it.’

For a moment he forgets their previous conversation and steps closer to the corner wall. He goes quiet as he usually does when faced with a new dilemma. Kayley watches as his gaze shifts to the largest of the patches. His eyes are wreathed in laughter lines, which as a small child already led her to conclude, that he had a good time in the sun. She admires her father, who was approaching sixty-five, but is still stout and hefty even though his dark brown hair is greying at the temples. He is the type of man, who is not only tall but simply huge.

‘And you say you tried sanding and washing it.’ Rubbing his hand over the stain.

‘Yes. I even tried removing some of the plaster and filling it with new, but as you see the mustardy colour is coming back. And before you ask, Stephen went up in the roof looking for dead critters, but found nothing.’

‘Well if anyone knows anything about critters it will be your brother,’ he utters, scratching his index finger over the coloured stain. She watches as he rolls the small amount of plaster between his large fingers, then raises them up to his nose. There is a faint odour of something familiar, but he cannot put his finger on it. Instead he puffs out his cheeks and exhales with a sigh. She smiles as she realises where her brother got this mannerism from. ‘Maybe we should replace that panel, Bumblebee, and if it comes again, I guess we can cover it with an oil-based paint. I know,’ he says looking at her face, ‘this will mean extra work, but you do want to make a good job of this, child. I can’t think of anything else off the top of my head, that might do it!’

Kayley stares at the troublesome wall, then suddenly her eyes sparkle. ‘What about wallpaper? Matthew is coming in tomorrow to show us how to properly cover a wall.’

Her father stares at the stain, screws up his face and slowly shakes his head. ‘I don’t know. If it came through the new plaster, I don’t think a layer of paper will keep it out.’ He looks at his daughter, ‘come on we can have this replaced, plastered

and sanded before you can say Bob’s your uncle.’ She nods.

‘Pass me the drill.’

Within ten minutes Adam has the stained sheet of plasterboard off the wall and leaning against the entrance. He picks up the small torch, and peers in through the cavity. To his surprise only the lower part of the wall has been filled with fibreglass bats, and it is this that is deeply stained. Kayley watches as her father grabs hold of the bat that once was yellow and now dark brown. As he pulls it out a horrible, sharp, stomach turning stench wafts towards them.

‘What it is?’ she asks between breaths.

‘A dead animal of some sort,’ replies her father. ‘Quick get one of those heavy-duty bin bags.’

Without needing to be told twice, she races into the kitchen area and grabs one of the orange garbage bags.

‘Here,’ she mutters holding open the bag.

The stench of decay is so bad she nearly drops the bag as her father shoves the fibreglass bat and the half-decomposed critter in to it. Once her father has the bag securely tightened, she takes her first real breath and asks, ‘what is it?’

‘From the size of it I would say a three-month-old kitten.’

‘Oh, the poor thing.’

‘Yeah. What do you say we bury it properly once we are finished here?!’

‘I’d like that.’

‘OK, pass me one of those masks and bring me a bucket of disinfectant and a strong scrubbing brush. Then while I do this you can go and find a nice place in the backyard for our little friend.’

Outside on the newly created deck, Kayley surveys the large block. A sudden smile crosses her face as she stares at the avocado tree in the back-left hand corner. With spade in hand, she walks across the barren patch of dirt and squeezes herself in behind the tree. Digging a hole here is harder than she thought. The ground is dry and terribly hard to loosen. In the end she gets out a metal sleeper and uses it as a pick to break apart the dirt. When she is satisfied with the depth of the hole, she leans the sleeper against the fence then heads inside. ‘Wow dad, this looks fantastic.’

‘Do you want to paint it now?’

‘No. I think we’ll just wallpaper it. Where’s the kitten?’

‘Over there,’ he says pointing to a small cardboard box.’ I didn’t think you would mind if I took one of those fancy boxes of yours, and some of that tissue paper.’

‘Nice touch dad,’ she says looking at the brightly decorated box. A smirk crosses her lips as she turns back to face her father. ‘Not bad at all. Maybe I’ll make a craft person out of you yet.’

‘Now hang on there, making this coffin for that small critter is one thing, but don’t you go around telling people I’ve gotten soft or else there’ll be trouble, my girl.’

Kayley smile just widens as she watches him pick up the box and place it under his left arm.

‘Now where is she going?’

‘Come, I’ll show you.’

Outside the sky is starting to darken. He follows his daughter towards the only tree left standing after the last storm they had just before spring announced itself.

Kayley secretly smiles to herself as she watches her father squeeze himself past the tree.

‘You could have picked an easier spot.’

‘True, but how would we know that this poor thing wouldn’t be dug up again?’

‘I guess you’re right. This is a lovely spot. She’ll be at peace here,’ he remarks before lowering her into the hole and filling it in. Then in one fluid movement he dislodges the brightly coloured plant from its pot and expertly plants it over the grave. The flowers are a nice touch.’

‘I thought so and with the mulch over the grave no one will know it’s here. Not even Stephen.’

‘Talking about your brother, whatever you do tomorrow, don’t leave him alone with Matthew. I don’t want to be called out here to a blazing fire.’

‘I won’t. Still I don’t see why they can’t get along for one day. I am not asking them to get married.’

She notices the quizzical look upon his brows. He seems a little unsure whether she is just joking, or if she has really forgotten what befell between them. Fifteen years has been a long time, but in his heart, it feels just like yesterday. He remembers coming home from a long day at work. The temperature had been in the mid 40’s. It had been nine days since the heat wave started, and the city’s temper was growing daily worse. Since 4 am, they had been sent from one fire to the next. After the fifth one he lost count. For some strange reason the job was draining his spirits that day. Everything went wrong. Hoses leaked or were too short, air tanks had been either forgotten and not filled, and everyone seemed ill tempered for one reason or another. He remembered being pleased to be finally home. That was until he reached the front gate and found his young son sitting on the front step nursing a bloody nose. This was all he needed. As he closed the gate behind him, he breathed in deeply to calm his ragged nerves and took a step towards his young son.

‘Bad day at school?’

Stephen looked up at his father. His dark blue eyes were almost shut tight and a thick black ring was beginning to form round his eye sockets. Still holding the bloody handkerchief to his nose, he said, ‘no I tripped into a whole and landed face first on the concrete.’

Sarcasm was not lost on his father. ‘After the day I’ve had, nothing would surprise me.’

On hearing this, both of them started to chuckle. With the ice now broken, Adam sat down beside his son.

‘So, what happened?’ he asked, removing the handkerchief from his son’s hand. He folded it until he found a clean spot, then gently wiped away the blood stains from under his nose.

‘Well!’

‘Matthew is what happened.’

‘Matthew! I thought you two were friends - best mates.

‘Yeah, so did I, until he cornered me in the showers and kissed me. The others walked in as I tried to free myself from his grasp, but...’ He looked at his father, before saying, ‘I’m not gay, dad.’ A tear sprang from his swollen eye.

‘I know, lad. Come on, let’s get some ice on your face before someone rings the welfare and I’m up on abuse charges.’

It took him most of the night to calm the anger in his son, but by the time the first ray of sunshine appeared, Stephen was finally asleep.

He cannot believe his daughter has forgotten that their, was a rift between them. He stares into her blues eyes, and realises she is just joking. Still her brother will not think so. ‘Better not mention marriage tomorrow, Bumblebee.’

‘I know, but maybe if he tells me what happened I won’t have to walk on egg shells all the time. Matthew did say it was all a mistake. Stephen is just too “virgo” at times. He needs to learn to control that temper of his, plus a few other things. Otherwise he will never get married and we will be stuck with him.’

‘He is family.’

‘Boy don’t I know it.’

At this Adam has to laugh. ‘Come on, what do you say we get some takeaway for us and your Mum! How about noodles in a box.’

On hearing this, Kayley nods.

*

What a kind heart you have, my dear. Even a strange kitten wins a place in there. But will there be room for more?

Chapter 5

On the other side of town Stephen is getting ready for his fifth date this month. On paper the woman he is about to see sounds quite nice. She is family orientated, loves children and animals and most of all she loves camping. All of which are close to his heart. Since joining his four-wheel drive club, he has never been on so many camping trips as now. Mind you his new hobby is putting a dampener on his trips, but as he says combining a model railway exhibition with travelling interstate, is camping with a twist.

He checks the e-mail once more, making sure to retain all the relevant information. Gerlinda is her name. She was 5 foot 7 inches tall, had blond hair, hazel eyes and is full bodied. This he knows means she is closer to the plump side rather than the skinny side. Having taken a final glance at the photo, he closes her e-mail and quickly checks through the others he received. There it is. Another one of Chrissy vicious e-mail. That woman can make Lucifer look like a saint. He opens it.

You perverted bastard. Where are my blasted DVD’s? I knew I should have damn well taken you to the cleaners. You’re nothing but a stupid fat ugly mama’s whimsy boy, and your sister is nothing but a conniving wh...

That is enough. Calling him names is one thing, but insulting his family is going too far. He had promised not to answer her e-mails, but with this one he felt he has no choice.

Your DVD’s are where you left them, in the box in the garage.

As for my family, leave them alone. You’ve got what you want, the house. Now leave me alone or I swear next time it won’t be

an e-mail I’ll send.

He left it unsigned. With a tap of his right ring finger the message is sent. Satisfied there is nothing else of importance he switches the computer off. Then he straightens his light blue shirt and tucks it into his jeans. Not liking the look, he pulls his shirt out over his jeans. Satisfied he grabs his keys and heads out. In the front drive stands his blue 4-wheel drive, covered in dirt. Oh well, it’s a little late to worry about the dirt now, he thinks as he climbs into the driver’s seat. He starts the engine and pushes his foot gently down on the gas. As he drives, he drums his right-hand fingers on the steering wheel.

The traffic on Military Road down by Semaphore makes him a little nervous at times, and this round about particular junction is the worst. Most people do not how to enter this section. There is a left-hand turn, but to enter the roundabout you have to merge into the inner lane. Those on the outer lane usually never indicate, they just push in even though they have to wait until it is clear to do so. The amount of near misses and hits are extremely high for this particular area. This time though he gets through it without a problem.

Pleased with the time he made, he turns into the car park. He never notices the black 4 WD. It is the same car that has been behind him ever since he stopped at the red light on Commercial Road.

The car park, outside his local watering whole, is nearly full. Only three spaces by the back fence are left. Stephen hates parking back here. It is common knowledge, the so called young artists of tomorrow, are constantly spray-painting their tags across any surfaces they can find. Since the back-car park is dimly lit, due to the owner’s endless complaining there are no funds to buy a better lighting system, it has become a favourite hang out for them. He debates for a moment whether to leave his 4 WD there, but has little choice. Running late is normal for him. Boy is he late. He grabs the orange lilies he bought, slams his door shut and runs towards the front bar.

A moment later, he is standing just near the entrance. He takes several deep breaths, before pushing open the old battered solid wooden door. The smell of the old timber, mingled with sweat, stale beer and greasy counter meals creates a sickly heavy odour which hits him like a brick wall. However, after a few moments the smell does not seem so bad to him. This, always amazes him. If someone had told him that you can get used to the stink almost instantly, he would have stated they were mad, but funnily enough it is true. He smiles to himself, then glances around the pub. The place is indeed more than old. From its dark depressive wall panelling to its dark shabby furniture and fixtures, the whole place has seen better days. In fact, everything in it is tired and in need of repairs. Most of the tables rock, with one leg sometimes two, being stacked up with cardboard coasters. Patron’s sometimes even push a couple of coasters under their chairs to stop from swaying. The only good thing that occurs in this place since its beginnings, is the fact that guests are no longer allowed to smoke inside. Many have complained, but in the end, they realise the benefit of not sitting in a room full of greyish-bluish smoke that could be cut with a knife. From the look of the patrons now, no-one really cares anymore as long as their glasses are constantly filled. This the owner makes sure his young barmaid ‘Mikey’ does. Stephen watches her for a moment. Her step is graceful and serene for her height. Her eyes large and bright, her wheat-coloured hair is thick, long with a single strand of greyish-white running from her right temple and her figure is full yet firm, heavy-breasted and curvaceous in her tight black jeans and white top. Still her handsome face tells of long hardships living under the roof of her stepfather. Her skin is drawn across her wide, high cheekbones from lack of sleep, and yet she manages that special sweet smile that said I am only here for you. The owner on the other hand - a small, corpulent, balding, middle-aged tycoon whose saunter is more a waddle than a walk, having failed at everything he touches, bought this place without setting a foot in it on the advice of his brother-in-law. Stephen sometimes wonders if taking advice from family is altogether a good idea. In Pete’s case it may have been wiser to act alone than trust his wife’s family.

‘Stephen me lad, over here,’ someone calls from the bar. All eyes turn towards the young man standing by the entrance. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, he heads straight for the bar. There sitting, nursing a half empty glass of whiskey is his former teacher and mentor Mr. Cabelton. Over the years he has known this man, he has never seen him this wretched. Sixteen years ago, his teacher won the lottery - over 10 million dollars. This changed his whole world. He went from a stay at home life to an instant socialite existence. His wife taking care of that. She immediately began to spend the money and made sure they were invited to the best society had to offer. But by the time cracks appeared in their relationship, it was too late. His wife, not wanting to give up the good life divorced him and remarried, but not before taking him to the cleaners. Stephen recalls how lost he looked that first day back at school. The divorce had been very public - more a trial by media. Everyone suddenly knew his darkest secrets. His wife left no stone unturned. She was out for blood. In the end he gave her what she wanted, in the hope that he would be left alone, but this was not going to happen. A year later he resigned from teaching and was seldom seen anywhere else but here. This pub became his sanctuary.

As Stephen moves towards him, he notices his former teacher nervously run a hand through his grey-brown hair. Mr. Cabelton has always been self-conscious about his appearance. Being a small man with a pallid, almost washed out look, he tried to compensate by dressing to the ninth. It made no difference, because the poor guy had another problem. His nose is large and therefore his most dominant feature. Dressed in his old fraying teaching clothes, the poor man looks out of place.

‘Stephen, me lad,’ a gravelled voice mutters. ‘Have yah come to see yah old teecha?’

He stares into the old man’s bloodshot eyes, knowing full well this means Cabelton has no cash left. ‘Not tonight. But the next one is on me.’

‘Yah good lad,’ he says patting the old wooden bar in front of him, before turning back to his half-filled glass. Stephen pulls out a fifty from his wallet and heads towards Mikey. She smiles as she takes the money. ‘Don’t worry I’ll see he gets home safely.’ Then grabbing a new glass, she turns and proceeds to fill it with a double shot of whiskey and places it into the old man’s hand.

Now that he is satisfied his old mentor is taken care of, he turns his attention back to the matter at hand. There sitting in the back-corner table is a blonde headed woman, nervously glancing around her then back at her watch. He is twenty minutes late. The story of his life. For some strange reason, he seems to always run late when on a date. He wonders what Freud would make of this. With a final straightening of his shirt and hair, he heads towards the seated woman.

‘Hello, you must be Gerlinda,’ he says extending his free hand. ‘I’m Stephen Griften.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ she replies in a melodic tune, while shaking his hand. ‘I’m Gerlinda Jefferson. But everyone calls me Gillie.’

‘A pleasure. I’m terribly sorry for being this late. These are for you.’ He hands over the flowers he has been gently squeezing since he approached her. ‘I hope you like them.’

She looks from the flowers to his face and watches as his smile lights up his rather moon-shaped face. ‘Thank you they’re beautiful.’ She smiles at him then holds her flowers up to her nose and inhales deeply, taking the opportunity to look at him from behind her orange Lilies. ‘Mmm the fragrance is divine.’

*

How sweet! Your first meeting. She does seem to like you.

*

Stephen is still smiling at her. It is in this awkward moment of silence that a window of opportunity gives both of them a chance to check each other out. Her face is round like his, which her shoulder length hair quite nicely frames. Her eyes a little on the small side, but when she smiles, they light up. Her lips are rather thin, but she overcompensated this by outlining the outer edge of her lips with a darker colour. He notices there is a small gap between her front teeth, which he likes. She wears a deep red v-neck top covered in black roses with ruffled sleeves that show her full figure to the best advantage. Overall, he is very pleased with what he sees and hopes she feels the same.

‘I have made a reservation for us in the dinning area. If you like we can go through now.’ Gillie nods.

Being the gentleman, he helps her up and leads her through the connecting door. This room is totally different compared to the front bar. It is modern, light, airy and extremely inviting. The decor is remake of art nouveau. Antique white walls with just a hint of colour in the boarders. Panels of brass depicting sun rays and women in evening gowns, are used to separate the room into quiet discrete sections. Elegant brass light fixtures of women in flowing drapes, holding up warm glass shades, are placed at regular intervals along the walls. The tables and highback chairs all scream of a bye gone area, and yet the place feels fresh and new. The designer was careful not to over clutter.

An elderly gentleman dressed in formal dinner attire like in the old black and white movies, escorts them to their table. Once seated he hands them a menu, before taking his leave, giving them an opportunity to peruse the long list of specialities.

‘Do you eat here often?’ she asks still glancing around her.

‘Four to five times a month.’ He notices the surprised look in her face. ‘Cooking for one, especially when one gets home late from work certain days, seems more a chore than a pleasure.’ He notices the slight nodding of her head. ‘So, on those days I either eat out or go through a drive through at one of the fast food places,’ he remarks patting his stomach.

Gillie smiles.

At least she has a sense of humour. ‘I think our waiter is coming back,’ he nods, indicating to the left. ‘What would you like?’

Gillie quickly read through the menu again and settles on seafood cocktail, followed by chicken in white wine with sauté mushrooms, asparagus and mash potatoes, and for dessert strawberries and ice cream. Stephen on the other hand went for beef sauté, rump steak in brown sauce, salad and chips, and strawberry sundae.

Within thirty minutes they are well underway with their entrees. Stephen signals for the waiter and within minutes Mikey brings over a chilled bottle of white Queen Adelaide wine and two clean glasses. She winks at him before turning on her heels and heading back into the front bar.

He remarks as he lifts the bottle and pours her a glass, ‘I hope you like white wine, Gillie.’ ‘Yes, I do.’

Chapter 6

Detective Inspector Dirk Eastly wakes, startled by strange music. The phone is ringing. Damn those kids, he thinks as he fumbles with the touch bottoms on his mobile.

‘Yeah,’ he utters rubbing his hand over his eyes and yawning ‘We just found a body near North Haven.’ This wakes him up.

‘... it’s... You need to see this.’

‘I’ll be there in ten and have a cuppa waiting for me.’ He turns his phone off and stares at the numbers on the clock. 2:37. Why is it that nine out of ten bodies are always found during the graveyard hours. He shakes his head. Stretches out his wellmuscled body. Then scratches the spot just at the base of his throat before throwing his bed sheets back. As he climbs out, he notices his wife is not there. The twins must have had another nightmare. The third one this week. He grabs yesterday’s dark brown suit of the floor and put it on. It is still warm in places. With the ease of someone who has done this more times than he cares to remember, he slips into his size ten shoes. On the night stand lie his car keys. He grabs them, his gun from the safe and his phone from his pillow. Then heads out towards the stairs. On the landing a soft voice calls out.

‘I’ll have breakfast ready when you get back.’

He blows her a kiss, smiles and heads down to the front door.

She waits until she hears the soft click of the lock, then climbs back into her daughter’s bed. The child wriggles closer to her without waking up. A few moments later they are all asleep.

Dirk tiredly rubs his eyes, takes a deep breath, and turns the key in the ignition. Before heading off he fiddles with the radio knobs until he finds something with an up beat tempo. At this hour of the morning, his old car radio gives him few choices. That and his large fingers are no use on that small child, like buttons.

As he looks in the review mirror, he realises he has forgot to run a comb through his thick curly hair. Not to worry. The wind will take care of that. After all wind swept is the in thing. The cold breeze blows through his salt and pepper hair. A few years ago, he was still brown, and now the years caught up with him. Even his new partner could have been his daughter. He smiles as he thinks of Laura. That is one woman he is glad not to have running his life. She never stops. Even the smallest of rumours has to be checked by her personally. He asked once why. She just smiled at him and said, ‘my father always said never pass something over to others when you are capable of doing it yourself.’