Marriage by Law (40 page)

He opened the door to the limousine and I got in, laughing as I saw Adrian sitting inside it still in his horrible patterned suit with his hands crossed.

"I'll meet you guys at the airport," Darius said.

I watched in confusion as he closed the door and then disappeared from view.

"Where is he going?"

"I can't believe you left me on the boat."

I shook my head at the five-year–old Adrian and leaned my head back, watching Paris fly by. 

"Simone!" I called out excitedly as I saw him. 

"How was France, mademoiselle?"

"Memorable," I said, laughing as I sat down and put my seat belt on. Adrian was still in his baby mood as he slumped in the seat in front of me. 

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Do you have orange juice?" I asked, suddenly having a weird craving for orange juice. 

"I can get you a glass of freshly squeezed in ten minutes."

"Thank you."

And true to his word, he brought me a jug of it which I demolished in no time.

"You're going to be sick," said Adrian as I refilled the glass for one last time.

"What?"

"Orange juice on a hangover isn't smart."

I shrugged. "But I don't have a hangover."

Maybe he still did but mine was gone, probably because Darius made me drink heaps of water on the speedboat before I ended up dozing off with a full bladder.

"About time," I said as Darius walked in, taking his coat off and handing it to the air hostess.

"You can tell him we're ready," he said.

She nodded before walking off and he sat down in front, sitting beside Adrian and shooting him a concerned look. "Sorry. Had to pick something up."

"Want some?" I offered but he shook his head. I shrugged. Nothing beats freshly pressed orange juice.

"I want some more," I said as the plane started moving.

"You had a whole litre," said Adrian, looking at me from behind his magazine.

"But I want more." For some reason, I just felt thirstier than before. Just like an angel, Simone came back with another jug, after the plane was safely in the air, without me even asking and I thanked him, leaning back and looking out the window. 

"How long is it going to take us to get back to Melbourne?" 

"Twenty one hours and twenty two minutes," Darius answered as he took out his laptop from his bag. Of course, work.

"That's a whole day," I said. I wasn't even sleepy to kill some time. Instead, for once I was wide awake and they both were being boring. One was reading a magazine and the other was working, as usual.

I sighed deeply and looked out the window before I got really bored. The only thing I could see was clouds, and these small clouds, big clouds, clouds everywhere. 

I got up and walked toward the back where the kitchen surely was. What’s for breakfast?

"Mademoiselle," said Simone, seeing me walk in and I waved.

"What are you making?"

"Are you hungry?" 

I nodded, looking around the kitchen. It was small but modern, filled with a range of appliances and shockingly neat. It looked more like a small hotel kitchen than a in a commercial plane. Then again this was a private jet.

"What would you like to eat?" 

"Can you make anything?"

"Yes."

I was excited like a school kid as I walked around opening the fridge and pulling out ingredients. I was starving. 

"Where did you get all that?"

I ignored Adrian as I pushed the trolley to a stop in the gap between my chairs and theirs and sat down looking at the feast Simone had cooked me.

"Mine," I snapped as Adrian tried grabbing a piece of bacon.

I pulled out a plate and looked at all the food. Another jug of orange juice was sitting on the corner waiting to be drunk. There was a range of food, a plate with eggs and bacon and toast and a dish with chicken and mushroom pasta. 

"That's not fair. So that's why you disappeared." 

I nodded. I killed four hours happily watching Simone cook and tasting all the other food I found. Who knew blue cheese actually tasted like crap?

Darius looked up from his laptop and I smiled as I stuffed my face with a piece of chicken. I was a happy child.

"I'll be back," he said and got up and I waved a hand. Take your time. I have food, which was a better company.

Adrian watched me with a frown, making me sigh. "Fine," I told him. I hate being watched while I eat.

"Good to see you back to normal."

I shrugged. There was no point dwelling over things. What happened, happened. He grabbed the plate of bacon, of course, and I smiled as his face lit up when he bit into one.

"Eat slowly," I told him, pushing a glass of water his way. He was going to choke himself. 

"Where's Simone?" I asked as Adrian decided I had 'enough' to eat since he was my calorie counter and took away the food for himself. Not like I minded, but I wanted my orange juice. I tapped my fingers on the armrest, waiting for him to walk by.

Darius came back and sat down while I leaned over the arm rest looking down the corridor.

"Where's Simone?"

"In the cockpit."

I frowned. I didn't know much about planes or jets but wasn't he a server, not a pilot?

"I want more orange juice."

Adrian waved his fork. "You're going to throw up," he said with his mouth full, and a piece of scrambled egg landed on Darius's face. 

"No, I'm not," I said, sitting back in my chair and trying to hold back a laugh. I have a strong stomach. 

And strong it was. Strong as a mentos in a bottle of coke.

"I told you."

"Shut up."

"I told you but no one listens to Adrian." 

I groaned as I hugged my new toy of the day, the toilet bowl.

"Darius," I groaned. He was just standing there with his leg perched on the wall behind like he owned the place. Okay, maybe he did.

"Adrian, get out."

"No, I told –"

The two bickering grown men exited the bathroom and I relaxed. Maybe two and a half litres of orange juice in the air was a bad idea.

 And it didn't help that they watched like it was some soccer match. Some privacy while you upchuck everything you ate in the past fourty-eight hours would have been nice.

I groaned and closed my eyes. Can someone tell the plane not to move so fast? It was like it wanted me to throw up.

"Are you feeling better now?"

I closed the bathroom door, turning around and shooting Darius a murderous look as he sat on the bed with a glass of orange juice.

"That's not funny."

"What's not funny? I'm just thirsty," he said before taking a sip. I rolled my eyes. I could still hear Adrian banging the door from outside and yelling 'I told you so'.

"I'm never feeding him again." 

The guy was hyper already without bacon in his stomach.

"Sleep," Darius said as he patted the bed.

"Not sleepy," I said. I was more awake than the sun. Was that even possible? I'm never drinking again. No, I am never drinking orange juice after a night of drinking. Yes, that was better.

I was pretty sure alcohol would be the only thing that got me through parties.

"That's a first." 

I looked at Darius, narrowing my eyes. "You know what you should do?"

"What?" he asked with an amused grin on his face.

"Drink a glass of Dairy."

Everyone knows what happens when you drink orange juice and milk. 

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

"We've landed."

I groaned, opening my sleepy eyes. I threw my legs over the bed and rubbed my eyes, making sure my head felt right before standing up. I had enough of throwing up. 

I accepted Darius's hand to lift me up and grabbed my jumper, pulling it back over my singlet. "Finally." This plane ride felt it took forever.

"Sleeping beast wakes," Adrian announced when I came out. I smirked as Darius playfully hit the back of his head, saying “Behave.” I stuck my tongue out at him and walked fast to get out of this place.

"Simone!" I said as he came out of the door. Simone paused and gave me a nervous smile, which made me frown. "What?" I said, looking behind me.

"Nothing. Enjoyed your flight?" 

"As much as one can," I replied with a laugh,  but he simply nodded at me and I frowned again.

He stepped aside for me to walk ahead.

"Bye, Simone," I said, confused at his change of behaviour.

"Bye, Mademo - Madame."

I waved, still confused, and walked down the stairs with Darius behind me. I breathed in the Melbourne air. It felt so good to be home.

"Home," I whispered, watching as two cars pulled up in front of us.

The first thing I did when we arrived home was dive into the bathroom, brushing my teeth at least five times and using half the toothpaste tube. Then I ducked under the shower, taking a long hot relaxing shower, not something I do
 
too
 
often.

It helped me relax my muscles from the long trip where I just spent the hours sitting in the bathroom not knowing when I was going to throw up. For a whole day, that was not fun.

I ran a hand through my hair, switching the taps off before the water went cold and wrapped fluffy towels around me. I peeked out the doorway to see the bedroom empty and ran to the walk-in closet and rummaged for some clothes.

I threw on some fluffy pants and wore a big warm jumper and tied my hair in a towel. I hated the feel of wet hair on my shoulders, just as much as I hated the after feel of a shower. I loved showers, just not the hot, sweaty feeling afterwards. 

I shuddered. I hated that feel.

I opened the door and went downstairs. Was Ma back yet?

Somehow I was missing her presence.

I found Darius hunched over the dining table looking at papers spread out before him.

"Do you ever take a break from work?"

Darius looked over his shoulder and smiled before doing a double take.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"What?" I asked, looking down at myself. Pleasure for what?

He answered. "Is this the first time you took a shower and changed clothes willingly?"

I could feel my cheeks burning up but I ignored him and walked toward the kitchen. "You spend too much time with my dad," I snapped.

Did dad have to tell him everything? I mean, sure he was my husband, but 
everything
? Some things were better left unsaid, like my suspensions and bathing rituals.

I looked at the cupboard. Was there anything to eat?

“I'm hungry," I said, sighing.

"Of course," Darius said as he walked into the kitchen. And, unsurprisingly, he had the folder in his hand. "Are you ever not hungry?" He looked at me with knotted eyebrows, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the table.

"What?" 

I opened the fridge and looked at the bread. Was it edible? How old was it? Only one way to find out.

"How do you pack it all away?"

"I don't eat a lot. I just eat more times a day." I shook my head. Fast me

tabolism, that’s what you call it. Did the guy ever go to a normal school? Probably not, just some business school.

Darius stayed for a few more minutes as I raided the cupboard and found a pack of instant pasta. Just add hot water.

"I'm going to take a shower."

I nodded absently, waving a hand as I read the flavour. Chicken. Yea, I can live with that.

I grabbed all four sachets and placed them in a bowl and read the instructions at the back.

Pour 250mL of hot water into the bowl for five minutes, which meant one litre if you wanted all four packets.

I placed two bowls out, glad that Adrian went back to his place. I don't want that pig eating my food.  Plus, I have a
 
reason
 
to be hungry. I threw up everything I ate.

I grimaced, remembering it. Should I be eating this soon?

I'll eat
 
slow
.

I ran the tap, turning it to hot water, and went up to check my phone. I used to be attached to this thing as a kid, now I barely use it. I laughed. How times have changed.

I grabbed my phone out of the carry bag and walked back downstairs as I switched it on.

Full battery. That was a surprise. Wait till dad heard about this.

I scrolled through the unread messages, wincing. Oh dear, I should call Rose.

I went back to the tap to test the water. Still lukewarm. I turned the tap fully to the left. Hurry up, I'm starving.

I opened a new message to reply to Rose, leaving my hand under the water that was gradually turning hot, but it was slower than a snail.

"Aluminium!"

I jumped and turned around, "Wha –?" The word got caught in my mouth as Darius stood glaring at me. Did someone turn on the ducted heating because it was suddenly hot in here?

"I can't get hot water upstairs if you have the hot water turned on full here!"

"Aha," I dumbly said with a nod, trying not to stare, but it was really hard when he was standing wearing a lime green towel in the middle of the kitchen, with one hand wrapped around holding it together and the other rubbing his forehead like he was frustrated.

Who has lime green towels? I was really expecting it to be white, or grey, or even black.

"Are you going to switch it off?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. I tried not to stare at the water droplets that were pretty much clinging to every part of his upper chest. Rose was right, he was –

I swore, taking my hand out of the water as it hit the hot level and then I closed the tap.

"I need hot water," I said, looking at my red finger. Idiot, Ivory, only you would do something like this.

"Microwave it," he said before turning around and walking away, leaving puddles of water wherever he went.

"Microwave it," I mimicked, filling the bowl with cold water and doing what he said. I placed my finger in my mouth. That's what I get for staring, karma. This was exactly why I didn't stare last time. Muttering to myself, I looked around till I saw the microwave.

I pulled the bowl out after ten minutes and poured in the flavor from the sachet, turning it into a strange mustard colour.

Was I doing this right?

It smelled amazing, on the other hand. I took two bowls out and filled them up, me getting the bigger portion, obviously, and placed them on the table.

Where was this man? Did he drown?

Can
 someone drown in a shower? Was that even possible? I saved this question to the back of my head, so I could Google it next time I used the computer. I looked at the time and sighed. Too late. I
 
tried
 
waiting for a minute, but he was late. I grabbed my bowl and walked to the sofa, switching the TV on. What was Melbourne up to?

It was just past eight at night and there was nothing interesting. I settled for some kids’ movie and huddled up on the sofa eating.

Was this meant to taste slightly watery? I shrugged. It was edible anyway.

It wasn't till ten minutes later that Darius came down, and surprisingly without his folder, and looked at me.

"What are you watching?"

"The Hedge." 

It was boring, maybe good to watch once but definitely not twice. Why couldn't they play Bolt or something? He sat on the couch and took out his phone. Ahhh, there it was, as usual.

"Which one is that?" I asked, shoving a forkful into my mouth. They all looked the same to me. "You should stick stickers on them."

"I know which one is which. This is family."

Well, I don't. "What's that?" I said, pointing to the list of names that just said, oh Mum.

"Missed calls."

I grimaced. If I got that many missed calls from mum, I'd be dead or buried alive in a coffin sixty feet under the ground. "Good luck," I said as I leaned back in my cushion. He'll need it.

"I'll call her later," he said, putting his phone back in his pocket. I raised an eyebrow questioningly. Was he really going to risk calling her later?

"I have to go in to drop something in the morning. Marge should be back by afternoon. You'll be fine, right?"

I nodded. "I think I can manage not to burn the house down."

"I mean it's big. Do you want me to call Adrian?"

"No, he'll eat all the food – Hey!" 

Darius took my bowl and I glared as he took a bite. Adrian wasn't the only who stole food. It seemed to run in the family.

"Yours is on the kitchen table," I said.

"Too far to walk."

I raised an eyebrow, quietly asking myself, since when did he become lazy? Was I finally rubbing off on him?

I focused my attention on the TV. I was feeling slightly bit full and I was meant to eat slowly anyway. I flipped through the channels. God, I was so bored.

"It's boring," I told him.

"We can get foxtel."

"Watching TV all day?" I asked. Surely that wasn't good for you and it was going to make me sick. Stuck at home with Marge while he was at work brought back boredom. 

"Why don't you take a part-time job? If you want, of course."

My jaw fell open and I tried not to gawk. Did he just say what I was trying to ask? And here I thought, how can I approach the subject subtly? Thanks, Adrian, for a whole heap of nothing.