Still Waters (11 page)

“Ok.”

He
quickly writes down his address on the back of an envelope and then suddenly
looks up.

“I
keep forgetting you don’t have a car. I’ll pick you up. Is two good?”

I
place a hand on his forearm and lean forward to rest my forehead on his chest. He
smells too good.

“I
think I’ll walk along the beach.”

He
places a hand on my hair and then wraps his fingers around the back of my head,
pulling me closer to him. I want to say that I’ll miss him. I want to ask when
he’ll be back. But instead I just stand there and try to remember exactly the
way he feels when he holds me.

Hartley

After Crew leaves, I wander around for a while,
tidying up the last of the boxes and putting away things in the kitchen. Every
time I walk past the refrigerator I think about the samples. Without Crew here
to distract me it feels like everything I’ve been running from is catching up
with me. It doesn’t help that every few minutes the screen on my phone lights
up with a new message.
 
I walk over to
where it’s sitting in the fruit bowl on the end of the kitchen counter and pick
it up. There are lots of text messages from David. I scroll down to a message
sent around the time I left The Sea Shack last night. It’s actually kind of
sweet.

Baby, I miss you so much. I don’t understand
why you’re doing this.

But
then I skim over the rest of them.

If you just come back
to work, everything can go back to normal.

Stop sulking and
come home. You’re embarrassing yourself.

You’re a selfish
brat; you know that?

Do you know what
people at work are saying about you?

Answer at least
one of my God damn messages, or I’m going to lose it.

Baby, if I have to
come and find you, I promise you that you’ll regret it.

There
are voice messages from my dad’s phone and one from my mom, and then there are
three from a number I wasn’t expecting. They’re from my intern Lauren.

Lauren
and I clicked from her very first day at Preston Industries. Partly because
we’re the same age and partly because I liked the way she brought out the
eccentric, quirky side of me. The fact that I was her boss never once got in
the way. I hesitate for a moment, my finger hovering over her name on the
screen and then taking a deep breath, I press the button. She answers on the
first ring.

“Hartley?”
she yells into the phone. I jump and pull it away from my ear.

“Where
are you? Hartley?”

“Hi,
Lauren.”

“It’s
so good to hear your voice. I’ve been so worried about you. Are you ok?”

“I’m
fine. Are you at work?”

I
picture her standing in the small office area next door to the labs, her white labcoat
thrown over her signature outfit – vintage dress and stripy tights.

“No,
I’m in a café down the street. Hartley, what’s going on?”

I
bite my lip and look out the window as I try to think of what to say to her.

“Do
you remember the data I showed you for Bridal Falls?”

“The
samples?”

“Yes.”

“What
about them?”

“Has
anyone been asking about them? Anyone from the top floor?”

She’s
quiet for a second and then she sighs.

“Where
are you, Hartley?”

I
can hear her breathing. I’m about to ask her to email me the files I wasn’t
able to access the day I left Preston Industries but then it hits me. There are
no sounds coming through the phone other than her breathing in and out rapidly
as if she’s panicking. I can’t hear people talking or a coffee machine or
chairs scraping along the floor. I quickly press the ‘End’ button and throw the
phone on the table. This is ridiculous. I reach over to the phone and quickly
press my dad’s number before I have a chance to change my mind.

“Hartley,”
he says briskly. “Where are you?”

“Hello,
Dad.”

I
pull out a chair and sit down heavily. The low gruff timbre of his voice and
the way he says my name breaks my heart a little.

“I
miss you, Dad.”

“Bug,
why are you doing this?” he sighs. “Everyone is worried about you. When are you
coming home?”

“Dad,
what have you done with the vial of water I gave you?”

I
clench my hand into a fist, pressing my nails into the heel of my hand. Please
say you did the right thing, I plead silently. Please don’t leave this all up
to me.

“David
destroyed it.”

My
heart sinks.

“If
you understood what this means for that part of the mountain, I think you’d
change your mind. You know it’s our responsibility to make sure that nothing we
do has a negative impact on the environment. We have contracts with the state
government, Dad. This is really serious.”

He
doesn’t say anything and for a moment I think he might actually be listening to
me.

“There
are heavy metals in that water that are coming from one of the mines. They will
eliminate any aquatic life and destroy the habitat of millions of birds.
Daddy,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes. “We don’t even own that land, and
we’re destroying it. Please.”

But
all I can hear on the other end is my father clearing his throat like he’s
about to make his argument in court. And I know the battle is lost.

“There
are two samples missing from the lab,” he snarls. “I would like them back.”

I
look down at a folded newspaper sitting on the table and see that Crew has
completed the crossword. He’s drawn a surprisingly good sketch of a seagull
above it, its wings outstretched and a fish caught in its mouth by the tail.

“I
can’t do that.”

“Twin
Heads isn’t that far from Jefferson. I can have someone pick them up if that
makes it easier for you.”

He
hears me take a sharp intake of breath and chuckles.

“I
wanted to give you some time to do this on your own, but I’m losing patience
Bug. Look, leave Preston if you want. Go and live in some working-class fishing
village if you want. But those samples are my property, and I need them back.”

“And
if I don’t give them to you?” I snap, “then what? Are you going to send David
around here to bully me into being a good little girl who always does what
she’s told?”

He’s
quiet for a moment, and it gives me time to recognize that my heart is
hammering away in my chest, and my breath is coming far too fast.

“Let’s
not be unpleasant, Hartley,” he chides, “I think you’ll find that you’ll come
to the right decision, all on your own. But,” he adds coldly, “don’t take too
long.”

I
open my mouth to say something back, but the line goes dead.

By
the time my phone lights up again I’ve cleaned every window and mopped all of
the floors. My bed has new linen, fresh from a bag that Crew unearthed this
morning from behind the sofa, and there’s a new pile of fluffy lemon and
lavender colored towels piled on the chair in my bathroom. He would be proud, I
think, if only he could come and see it. I quickly get changed into a pair of
skinny jeans and throw a chunky blue scarf around my neck and then braid my
hair. I even have time to put on a little bit of makeup. I’m sifting around in
a purse for a lip-gloss I know is in there somewhere when I see my phone
flashing from the corner of my eye. Tomorrow morning, I’m buying a new one. I
press the button, expecting something from David or my dad but instead it’s a
number I don’t recognize. The message reads,
I’m outside
. For a second, I wonder if it could
be from Dad, but I quickly dismiss it. There’s no way they could have made it
to Twin Heads so quickly. Unless, I think as my stomach drops a little, they’re
already here. I walk over to the window and pull back the curtain. Thank God.
It’s just Crew’s black Jeep parked outside my gate.

“Packing
took less time than I thought,” he smiles as I open the car door and climb in.
It’s old and worn inside but spotlessly clean. When he left this morning his dark
skin, disheveled hair and the shadow of facial hair across his jaw made him
look sexy and roguish. Now he’s changed into a pair of worn jeans and a gray
t-shirt that looks so soft I wish I were wearing it myself. His face is freshly
shaven, and his hair is pushed off his face. His eyes are greener than green.

 
“You didn’t need to pick me up. I would have
been there in half an hour anyway.”

“I
know,” he says and reaches over to grab my hand. “It’s a bit pathetic. But I
kind of missed you.”

My
eyebrows shoot up, and he smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

“I
don’t remember giving you my number.”

“I
know. I got sick of waiting, so I just took it. Do you want to take a drive
first?”

I
laugh and settle myself back in the seat.

“A
drive sounds great.”

Crew
starts the engine and reaches over my chest, pulling the seatbelt and clicking
it into the lock. He smells incredible. Like soap and spice.

“Sorry,”
he sighs, “you can probably take care of that yourself.”

He
meets my eyes briefly and then quickly looks away.

I
pick up his hand and kiss it before pressing it gently against my heart.

 
“So,” I say as we drive to the other end of my
street, and then turn in the direction of town. “I spoke to my dad today.”

Crew
nods thoughtfully but doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“How
did that go?”

I
lean my head back and look over at him. “Not well.”

His
jaw clenches but he stays quiet, waiting for me to continue.

“He’s
pretty angry with me. I don’t think there’s any chance of us having a normal
relationship now.” I whisper the last words and close my eyes. I think I’m
really saying them to myself. Crew’s hand settles on my thigh.

“I’ve
also been getting a lot of these,” I mumble as I pull my phone out of my pocket
and hit the messages button. Crew glances down quickly and his other hand grips
the steering wheel, hard.

“I
think I need to have a word with David,” he says, his voice like ice.

“It’s
ok. He’s all talk.”

I
hope he’s all talk. There were a few messages I deleted as soon as I read them.
They were too awful to keep.

“I’m
getting a new phone in the morning,” I say, trying to lighten the atmosphere in
the car, which is now tense and thick with suppressed anger.

Crew
doesn’t say anything but he does take his hand off my leg and suddenly turn the
car around, back in the direction of the beach. We drive past new beach houses
and small holiday homes that were the first of their kind to be built here in
the 1980s. I see a sign pointing to the cliff road and look over at him. He’s
gripping the steering wheel, but it can’t stop me from seeing that his fingers
are trembling. He hesitates at the intersection for a moment, looking up the
street towards The Point and then slowly turns the corner. As we snake our way
up above the cliffs, he keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead and says nothing.
He doesn’t look when we pass two white crosses on the side of the road.
 
When we finally make it to the top, he parks
outside the Lighthouse Café and opens his door. I look out at the observation
deck at the rows of telescopes. We’re back where we started.

“Come
on,” he says as he opens my door. I jump out and follow him to the railing, my
braid picking up in the breeze.

I’m
thinking about whether he’ll lift me up onto those stools and kiss me again,
but I know it’s a false hope because it’s obvious to me and just about anyone
within a ten foot radius that he’s in a very, very bad mood.

“Hey,”
I say quietly, stepping forward to wrap my arms around his waist. “What’s going
on?”

He
looks down, and his face softens slightly.

“Do
you have copies of those messages?”

“You
mean other than the ones on my phone?”

He
nods.

“No.
Should I have?”

He
nods his head. “Yeah, you should. Can you give your phone to me for a few days?
There’s a guy who works for me who can take care of it. I’ll get him to send it
back to you when he’s done.”

I
pass him the phone, and he puts it into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Tell
your guy that he can keep it.”

Crew
looks out over my head to the ocean and pulls me closer.

“I
can’t leave you here alone now, kid.”

I
pull back a little and look up into his eyes.

“I’ll
be fine. Eleanor is around the corner if I need anything. Don’t worry about
me.”

“Hartley,
I know guys like David. I grew up around them. See that big white house up
there?”

He
points at a sprawling cliff top mansion above the lighthouse. It’s all glass
and stone, and the front of it juts out over the edge of the escarpment.

“That’s
where I grew up. I know rich guys. They don’t like the word ‘no’.”

“Hang
on,” I say, “why do you assume David has money?”

He
smiles at me indulgently and tucks a curl behind my ear.

“Just
some of the things you’ve said. The way your parents picked him for you to be
your ‘tennis partner’. And you said your family owns a big company. I’m
guessing they didn’t handpick the local plumber’s son to be their daughter’s
boyfriend.”