After Ariel: It started as a game (5 page)

She hummed as she rushed through her parent’s house, tucking newspapers under the sofa cushions, washing the dishes piled beside the sink. Cleaning the bathroom was a novel experience, as she contributed generously to the mess, but was invariably less than diligent in clearing it up. Losing interest at the halfway mark, she bundled the cosmetics on top of the vanity into the top drawer of the unit, kicked the waste basket behind the clothesbasket and headed for the kitchen, calling her friend on her mobile as she went. ‘Come on, answer, sod you, Maggie!’ she yelled. The ‘Switched off or out of range’ recording played again.
I’ll bet she’s shagging Hamish. Stuff it!
There was nothing as frustrating as not being able to tell her latest news to her friends, after all that’s what a mobile was for!
‘Mags, I’ve got the most amazing thing to tell you. Ring me back.’
She was so excited that she didn’t notice that the battery level was almost non-existent.

She tore sheets and towels out of the linen press and raced to her room to change the bed. Just in case. Then she gathered up piles of clothes and stuffed them into the wardrobe, kicked shoes under the bed and threw books and papers into a basket in the corner of the room before making the bed up.

Finally, she showered, slithered into a black lace thong and donned a matching black bra. A miniscule black skirt and a pair of black tights teamed with a gold cammie and black boots completed her ensemble. The pretty face, with hair piled artlessly on top of her head, glowed with excitement. She pressed her gleaming red lips together to set the lipstick and turned sideways, looking at herself from the corners of her eyes, all the better to gauge the length of her lashes. Her nose ring glittered in the light.

‘
Coooool! Like, amazing.’
She pursed her lips and took tiny dabs at her pencilled eyebrows pausing to look between each stroke of the pencil until she was satisfied.
Good one.

A faux fur coat around her shoulders, Ariel threw the front door key into her bag and swung out of the house.

*

During his two-week break, Dingo had found few normal, everyday girls he felt like asking for a serious date. Pickups in hotels and bars didn’t count. He only wanted to play with
them
, but then, remembered Ariel’s lithe body...after years of performing, the high-flyers bored him and nine times out of ten, sometimes even
their
games gave him pause for thought.

He smoothed aftershave over his cheeks, examining his reflection in the bathroom mirror; white shirt, black leather jacket, jeans and boots, casual...not a slob but not too rich, a good disguise.  He went to the window and gazed on the cars parked below, knowing he should take his medication, and that he hadn’t taken it for a month.
No way. I don’t need it anymore.

‘Two blue, two red, a green...oh no, where is the other green...ah, there’s one, but it’s not stopping...yes it is!’ Relief flooded him. Thank God, it was going to be a good night; the numbers were even for every colour! If one car didn’t fit, something awful would happen. Reassured, he left the room, unaware of a white car slipping into the space at end of the line. At the last moment, he turned back and picked up his medication, hesitated, then plonked it back onto the shelf.

Spurning the lift, he edged his way down the staff stairs which creaked under his feet, and down the hallway. He tried to tread lightly and almost furtively stepped into the beer garden at the bottom. He didn’t want anyone to stop and talk to him though several people looked up. 

‘More creaks in them stairs than a monkeys got tits!’ joked a man, sitting with his companion at the table nearest the bottom of the stairway. His companion giggled. Trying to appear smaller, Dingo wended his way through the empty tables to the outside door, glad he was getting out before the evening rush. He wanted to take Ariel somewhere quiet for dinner. Put her in the mood.

The evening air had turned nippy and despite the lingering light, a breeze had sprung up. He hovered close to the door, not wanting to look too eager or like a right wanker if she didn’t come. Music danced through his head; calm settled over him.

 The trees in the park opposite the pub swayed gently. A low branch, just begging for someone to swing from it, caught his attention. He crossed the street, hurried to the tree and dropped his backpack on the park bench nearby.
Glad there were no other people around to distract him or to stare, he sat down and opened it to check his possessions.

Firstly, he laid his notebook on the bench and placed a pen alongside it, then his wallet against that to form a T-junction, keeping exactly 3.2cms between each item before counting them twice. Having satisfied himself that all the items were arranged correctly, he put his comb at right angles to the group.

The only people visible were two men entering the front door of the pub, absorbed in their conversation. Dingo
grasped the branch and swung himself up. The view from his perch encompassed the direction of Ariel’s house.
All the better to see you coming, gorgeous!
 He locked his knees around the branch and dropped his torso down to watch for her, upside down, then swung backward and forward a few times before cocking his head to look at his watch. Seven o’clock. Where was she? He looked back at the street, but there was no sign of her. Disappointment flooded through him, but as he prepared to pull himself upright, a movement caught his eye.

 
Ariel!
 She was smiling as she trotted toward the pub, taking little skips as though she could hardly wait to get to him. Excited, he swung his body again. Just as she reached the entrance, Dingo stuck his fingers in his mouth and emitted an ear-splitting whistle, causing her to jump and swing around.

‘Hey, Ariel! Over here in the park!’ She peered around and then spotted him. Laughing, she shook her head, checked for traffic, ran across the street to the tree and gazed up at him. He breathed in her perfume and reached out a playful hand to grab hers. She dodged his grasp and danced around, pretending to box with him, laughing.

‘Hey, your face’s all red! All the blood’s running to your head, you idiot!’

‘No, it’s not, I’m invincible!’ he shouted, dragging himself upright to sit on the branch. ‘Are you hungry?’ Suddenly he felt free, able to do anything – fly if he wanted.

‘Oh course I am,’ she chided, swinging a small black dillybag over her shoulder. The diamantes on the clasp twinkled in the last rays of sunshine. He jumped to the ground, straightened his shirt and gathered his things into the backpack. Ariel watched his methodical movements. ‘Do you always carry a notebook?’

‘Yeah, never know when I might want to write things down, like
your
phone number!’ He grinned, as he swung the pack over his shoulders. ‘Want to eat in the pub or do you know somewhere better?’

Ariel’s gaze lingered on his handsome face, wandered down his broad shoulders, strong arms and huge hands, imagining them touching her. She shivered. This bloke was all hers. ‘What say we get fish and chips and go back to my house? I forgot Mum and Dad are ringing tonight and I’m supposed to be at home. My brother’s motorbike broke down in Mackay and they’ve gone to pick him up.’ She wrapped her small hands around his arm and gazed up at him.

‘Can’t they ring you on your mobile?’
How old is this girl?
He wondered whether he was about to pluck a baby out of her virgin cradle. Perhaps he should slow this down, but a glance at Ariel’s gleaming pink mouth and knowing eyes reassured him.

‘They ring me at home on the old phone to make sure I’m all right.’ Ariel pouted, annoyed by the parental restrictions. She knew she looked at least twenty and besides, she would be eighteen in a week’s time.

He shrugged, not caring where they went as long as he could be alone with her and the parent’s home was as good a place as any. ‘Where’s the shop then?’

‘Just there by the corner.’ She pointed to a building down the street, where light spilled through an open doorway. A chill wind swirled along the street, sending autumn leaves rustling along the pavement. He reached back and flipped the hood of his jacket over his head. Ariel stared. ‘Are you cold?’

‘Nah. Come on, I’m famished.’ He took her small hand in his and they started down the deserted street, peering into the shop windows as they passed. When they almost reached the shop, he stopped. ‘Get a load of that, will you?’

‘What?’ Ariel peered into the window. ‘It’s just music stuff! What’s it to you?’

‘It’s my job – my career. I can play anything – piano, trumpet, clarinet...’ He leaned close to the store front to shut out their reflection in the window. She slithered in front of him and, repressing a spurt of anger, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her small rounded bottom against his burgeoning groin. She giggled and twisted around to stare at him. ‘What? Like, in a band?’

He debated putting her straight, but the effort of explaining was suddenly too much. ‘Yeah, something like that.’ Anxious to change the subject, he glanced around. A large poster on the back wall of the shop caught his attention. He pressed his face against the glass and squinted at the shadowed image of a fair-haired, sweet-faced woman holding a flute. He focused on the print. Pamela Miller. The concert tomorrow night...suddenly he wanted to go home to his unit and practice his music. He was in two minds to call the date off, when Ariel tugged his arm impatiently.

‘
Truly
?’

‘Definitely.’

Ariel looked at his closed expression and let it go. ‘You stay here and look at the gear. I’ll get the fish and chips.’ She held out her hand for the money. Resigned, he dug into his back pocket for his wallet and without counting, handed her a fistful of notes. Her eyes widened. ‘Hey, that’s too much!’

‘Get some drinks too,’ he muttered, twisting his head sideways to look at the price tag on a clarinet just inside the window. Ariel swung away and hurried to the shop.

He dropped his backpack on the footpath and leaned against the wall of the shop, hands in pockets. One. Two. Three blue cars...the next one would have to be white...yes...then red...yes! His irritation vanished. This was going to be a fun night.

Clutching hot bundles of fish, chips and coca cola, they hurried back to the house. Ariel could hardly wait to get inside, open the succulent parcels and get to know her handsome prize. She sat him down at the kitchen table and chatted as she prepared drinks.

‘Where are the plates?’ he asked, staring at his parcel of food.

‘Uh...we always eat it out of the paper.’ Something felt off-kilter. For a moment, she felt as though there was a hidden agenda.

He looked apologetic. ‘We always ate on a plate with cutlery, but you can use the paper and your fingers if you want.’
Don’t you ever let me catch you eating like a vulgar peasant...no mum.

A hot wave of embarrassment flooded her face. ‘No, I’ll get stuff,’ she replied. Of course someone who spoke like him would, like, eat posh!

‘So, tell me about yourself?’ he asked after a few minutes. Ariel, who normally ‘talked for Queensland,’ didn’t know what to say. She looked up, met his twinkling eyes and relaxed. He was just used to eating properly, like her mum was always harping on about. There was nothing more to it than that. Dredging up past lessons, she watched from under lowered lids as he ate slowly, carefully placing his knife and fork in the correct position on his plate and then moving the salt and pepper shakers equidistantly on each side. She wrinkled her brow and opened her mouth, but some instinct cautioned her not to comment.

‘How many in the family?’ he asked, glancing around the room, his eyes roaming over the photographs on the sideboard.

‘Well, I’ve got two brothers, Jamie and Anthony. Ant’s the one with the stuffed motorbike –and Jamie’s up in Townsville. I work part-time at Dimmies.’ Seeing his puzzled expression, she added quickly, ‘Dymocks. The bookstore in the city and I’m going to college next year.’

It was no time before he knew all about her penchant for shoes, movies, celebrities and One Direction, the five boy pop band currently the worldwide craze. Had she but known it, the latter placed Ariel firmly in her age group. For a moment, Dingo faced the realisation that he, at twenty eight, shouldn’t be hanging around a teenage girl, but then, looking at her smart face and nubile body, he dismissed the notion. After all, nothing was about to happen and he wasn’t a rapist. If she was willing, well...He smiled as he read the message in her eyes.  

He had no intention of following up with Ariel. He’d play around tonight and then head home to his unit in the morning.  He had rehearsals next day, the concert that night. The new young conductor leading could be interesting. He didn’t know Lancelot McPherson, son of the mighty Sir James, but from all accounts, a bit of a ‘Jack the Lad’ underneath his sophisticated exterior.
Could be fun!

He glanced around for a serviette and Ariel, flushing, dived for the paper ones her mother kept in a drawer and held out the box. He took a couple and leaned back in the chair. ‘What are you doing at college?’

Ariel almost rested her elbows on the table, but laid her arms along it instead. ‘I’m going to study Animal Care next year at Tafe. I always wanted to be a vet. My uncle was a vet, but he was, like, doing horses and cows, big animals, like, you know?’ She laughed. ‘He ended up working at Taronga Zoo and he did everything.’

Dingo realised an apparent absence in the household. ‘You haven’t got a pet?’

Ariel swallowed hard. ‘Our dog died a couple of weeks ago. He was sixteen and mum won’t get another one. I had pet rats a few years ago, but after they died, I wasn’t allowed to have anymore.’ She pouted. ‘I always looked after them and everything, but I had to keep them away from everyone else.’ Memories chased Ariel’s play-girl persona away, revealing the thirteen year old she’d been once and deep down, remained.

Turned on by her gorgeous complexion, soft expression and full lips, Dingo speculated how far he could go with his plans. Long dark eyelashes swept her cheeks, hiding the tears he guessed were pooling in her eyes. His eyes swept over her full breasts, then up to her face. The scent of her perfume drowned his senses; he fought the urge to pounce. It was too soon. Perhaps later they could play a game... ‘Your food will get cold.’