Authors: Sarah Belle
‘I’ll go back inside now, unless you need something?’ I ask, hopefully.
‘No, thanks.’
I turn and walk back to the door.
‘Wait,’ he says. ‘Aren’t you Lou, Hunter’s assistant?’
Oh my God! He remembers me!
I spin around to face him so fast I do a complete 360
°
turn — a bit like Michael Jackson, only less coordinated.
He laughs. ‘Nice move. Are you a dancer in your spare time?’
‘Are you kidding? Do I really move like a dancer?’
He laughs again, too polite to answer my question because we both know what the answer would be.
‘Yes, it’s me,’ I say.
‘I thought it was you serving the meals. Do you work here? Sorry, stupid question. Of course you do. You wouldn’t be here otherwise, would you?’
That awkward moment when your stalking victim makes an implication that you can’t answer truthfully and still keep your stalking activities a secret.
‘Yes. I’m saving up for a deposit on a house, so every bit helps.’
It’s true. My other goal is to buy a house…again.
‘Thanks for the tip-off today. I rang Amelia. She’s on her way,’ he says.
‘That’s great!’ I say, deciding to keep the rest of the story a secret.
There is another silence between us. Slightly less uncomfortable than the last. At least he remembered me this time and he doesn’t just see me as Hunter’s assistant. A major victory!
‘Are you married?’ he asks.
‘No, I’m not,’ I say.
‘Have you ever been engaged?’
The irony of this question coming out of Aiden’s mouth causes a tear to prickle in the back of my eye.
‘Yes. Briefly.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ he says.
‘It’s okay. It was the best few days of my life.’
‘So it didn’t work out, then?’
I exhale and walk closer to the balcony railing where he is leaning and take my rightful place next to him. My body zings with electricity and an ache to hold him, to touch him. What I wouldn’t give right now for him to take me in his arms and kiss me the way he used to.
‘It would have, if I hadn’t made one mistake.’
He remains silent, but now my eyes have fully adjusted to the dark, his face is visible in the glow of the lights below. It’s such a beautiful face, sweet, kind and gentle.
‘Do you mind if I ask what mistake that was?’
He knows Geneva is up to something. He must.
‘I guess I didn’t trust my fiancé loved me enough to accept my past.’
Once it’s out, I am able to acknowledge it’s the truth. Afraid he would turn his back on me because of my relationship with Hunter, because I didn’t feel good enough for him in the first place. Surely our love was stronger than that?
‘What do you mean?’
‘I had a relationship, 10 years prior to meeting him, with a man who turned out to be his childhood nemesis. I had no idea at the time. This man resurfaced just after he proposed to me and instead of telling my fiancé the truth, I…’
Cast a spell
.
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’
I have to ask, just
have
to know.
‘If you were in his situation—say your fiancée had a relationship with say, someone like Hunter Wincott, years before you even met — would you forgive her?’
He breathes in, holds it and lets it out. My heart stops, waiting for his answer.
‘If I really loved her, there would be nothing to forgive. We all have pasts, don’t we?’
I nod, unable to speak. Is there anyone on the entire planet — no, the universe — who is a bigger idiot than me? What a waste. What a stupid, useless, unforgivable waste.
‘What’s important is that my fiancée remains faithful to me now, not what she did before we even met,’ he continues.
He knows. He must. The urge to tell him is overwhelming, so much so that I have to clamp my mouth shut and hold it there for fear something inappropriate will fall out of it and ruin everything.
‘Don’t you think?’ he asks.
‘Yes, definitely,’ I say.
Perhaps if we keep the conversation going, then it may develop to a point where he wants to hear it?
Another silence, a more natural one this time.
‘So what will you do with yourself after this assignment finishes and we’re all out of job?’ he asks.
‘I’m returning to teaching, actually. I’ve re-registered and now just have to wait for a position to become available.’
‘You’re a teacher?’
‘You sound surprised,’ I say.
He looks at me and smiles. ‘I guess I am. And a bit jealous. I always wanted to teach.’
‘Really? You’d make a great teacher.’
Shit! Where did that come from? Stalker talk
.
‘What makes you say that?’ he asks.
‘There are very few male teachers and with the prevalence of divorces and such, a good male teacher can be a very strong male role model for boys who perhaps don’t have a man in the house.’ Thank the Lord my mind kicked back into teacher mode.
He nods. ‘You know, I’ve never looked at it that way before. What’s it like?’
I smile and laugh because the memory of being with my kids is too lovely to let go of. ‘It’s precious. Nurturing and guiding young children, helping them learn and grow and make sense of the world around them, helping to shape their minds, is the most amazing job I could ever imagine.’
‘You sell it well.’
‘It’s not all roses. There are days where I am completely drained of energy and only capable of spilling into a comfy chair and vegging out,’ I say. ‘But my kids teach me as much as I teach them.’
My beautiful kids. I miss them so much
.
He leans back and smiles at me, really smiles. Like the smile he used to give me when he asked about my day at work.
‘Well, now I really am jealous.’
‘It’s not too late, you know. You could still do your teacher training. It would only be a year because you already have a degree.’
He lets out a sigh. ‘I am afraid my family and fiancée would have a conniption if I were to give up my job to be a teacher.’
He’s still trapped. Not yet able to free himself of the expectations they’ve burdened him with.
‘I understand, but for what it’s worth, I believe you’d make an awesome teacher. The kids would be lucky to have you in their lives and you’d be happy to have them in yours.’
He smiles and places his hand on my forearm. Light and sparkles shoot up my arm and straight to my soul, which glows every colour in the light spectrum. My heart rate quadruples instantly. His touch is so familiar, so welcome…so missed.
Please make this moment last forever
.
‘Thanks, Lou. Maybe one day,’ he says.
He withdraws his hand and my instinct is to pick it up and place it back on my arm. All that’s left is the emptiness of where it was. But it was something, right? Did he feel it too? He stands up straight and looks out into the lights.
‘I’d better go. I’ve got a big day tomorrow. Got to be fit for it,’ he says.
‘Me too! I’m doing the charity thing as well,’ I say.
He looks at me oddly. ‘Really? You are full of surprises, Miss Lou. I’ll see you on the bus then.’
‘I’ll be there,’ I say and smile at him, perhaps a little too lovingly.
He turns and walks toward the door, then pauses and turns back to me.
‘And thanks for tonight. You did a great job. It was lovely talking to you.’
My mouth opens but nothing comes out until he’s gone.
‘I love you,’ I whisper after he has closed the door.
* * *
It’s Saturday morning and Mel and I make our way to the bank in order to catch the team bus to the charity run. When we arrive, in new Big W shorts and t-shirts, we are greeted by Sergeant Walnut.
‘Mudders, I’ll get youse to place your bags in the luggage loft and then form a line to enter the bus,’ he rasps.
‘Luggage? I only bought a water bottle and towel. Were we meant to bring a change of clothes?’ I ask.
‘Ah, light traveller. That’s what I like see. Good job, Mudders,’ he says.
‘Where is the run?’ I ask Sergeant Walnut.
He looks at me with an odd expression, as though I should know the answer to that already. ‘It’s at Phillip Island,’ he says. ‘How did youse not know that?’
Probably because I’ve only been in this life for less than a week and the words
fun run
are, in my opinion, an oxymoron, but that would be a smart-arsey thing to say, so I just offer up a ditzy smile.
He shakes his shaved head and leaves us so that he can rasp at someone else.
‘Come on, youse Mudder,’ I say to Mel, who giggles.
We do as instructed and join the line for the bus. Aiden is standing amongst his team members, laughing and looking outrageously edible. There is no sign of Geneva there to support him.
He looks over in my direction but looks straight past me. Apparently his memory of me has been wiped again. Bugger.
Just like a flashback to high school, the hope that my seat is in the vicinity of his is so strong that my hands are shaky. Imagine if, by some miracle, we are next to each other?
However, unfortunately, for me, Aiden is seated at the back of the bus, where all the cool people sit, even as adults apparently. We are three rows from the front, so not completely nerd positioning, but close enough.
The drive to Phillip Island, the home of Victoria’s fairy penguin colony, is long and boring. A small bruise has developed from where Mel keeps whacking me each time I turn around to see Aiden.
Eventually, two hours later, we arrive. Being stagnant for so long has not done anything to induce excitement or even mild enthusiasm in regards to running in this charity event. The sky has clouded over in thick grey clouds and the rain looks like it is not going to stop any time soon. The most comfortable place right now would be snuggled up on the couch in front of an old movie, a cup of hot chocolate warming my hands, with pink and white marshmallows floating on the top.
However, Sergeant Walnut seems to have other plans as he addresses everyone from the front of the bus. Thankfully, Aiden has joined him and the view from here is spectacular. Sometimes sitting in the nerd seats is an advantage.
‘Right, listen up, Mudders!’ he says. ‘Today is all about youse working as a team to finish this event. No one gets left behind, no one,’ he says, looking at me for some reason. Perhaps he’s psychic and knows that my athletic ability is equal to that of a cute but over-stuffed teddy bear.
‘I’ll hand over to your team captain, Aiden,’ he finishes as everyone starts to clap and cheer.
Aiden steps forward, smiling shyly. ‘Thanks everyone for coming here today and for all of the hours of training you’ve put in in recent weeks. I can’t say that today will be loads of fun, at least not until afterwards, but I think it’s great we are here together to support a deserving charity.’
Everyone laughs in agreement. We join in too, although mine is probably more of a love-struck teenager kind of laugh.
‘We are a team, and no matter what happens in the following days and weeks of this restructure, I want you all to know that it’s been a privilege and an honour to work beside you. So let’s go out there today and give it all we’ve got. First round at the bar afterwards is on me,’ he says and flashes a brilliant smile.
The bus erupts in cheers, claps and whistles. It could be because of the promise of free alcohol, but is more likely because everyone seems to love Aiden.
Sergeant Walnut then takes over again. ‘On your way out of the bus you will be handed a t-shirt. Wear it with pride…’ he goes on. The motivational speech is lovely and all, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything when Aiden is standing three feet away from me in his singlet and shorts.
Slowly, we all file out and are given our team t-shirt in the logo colours of the bank, which are red, blue and white. I take the time to have a look around, expecting to see a nice running track, some trees, picnic sets and maybe a lake, but the landscape is more of a deserted, boggy post-Apocalyptic wasteland. As far as the eye can see, in all directions, there are odd-looking timber walls, pits, ropes and hills and portable swimming pools. The ground has long ago ceased to be dirt and is now a boggy, mushy mud bath.
‘Oh shit!’ Mel says as she surveys the area. Her face visibly paling.
‘What?’ I ask.
She looks at me, horror plastered all over her face.
‘What? Mel, you’re freaking me out.’
She unfolds her t-shirt and holds it up. It has two words on it, the same two words that everyone else’s t-shirt has on it - even those who are in other teams.
‘Oh shit!’ she says again.
‘Mel!’
‘Tough Mudder! This is Tough Mudder?’ she says.
I shrug, clearly ignorant of the meaning of the words.
‘Tough Mudder is an extreme obstacle course, 20 kilometres of running and Special Forces-type obstacles…’ she starts.
Her words sink in.
‘So, this isn’t just a fun run, then?’ I ask, hoping she is either joking or mistaken.
She shakes her head.
With a more informed view of our surroundings, I swallow hard and realise we are about to get such a physical flogging that it will make the Tuesday training session seem like…well, a training session. Fark!
‘20 kilometres?’ I say.
Mel nods.
‘Are you sure?’
She races off and picks up a brochure from a nearby table. It’s a map. But not the treasure-seeking kind of map that makes everyone happy. It has the course layout on it as well as a brief description of each obstacle, all 20 of them.
‘Arctic Enema, Ball Shrinker, Electric Eel,’ she says.
A shudder consumes my entire body.
What the hell have I gotten us into?
‘Electroshock Therapy?’ she continues and turns to look at me with a murderous gaze.
I smile weakly and shrug, ‘Jeez, I really, really, really owe you?’
She turns back to the brochure and continues reading aloud, ‘Fire Walker, Underwater Tunnel…oh, I love this one…Turd’s Nest.’
‘I am so, so, so sorry, Mel. I had no idea. You don’t have to do this, just say you’ve got a sore ankle or fake an injury or something. This is my mess. Not yours.’
It’s just not possible to say how awful I feel right now. As if the training wasn’t painful enough and then the hot yoga, posing as wait-staff for the rehearsal, and now this. Mel is my bestest ever buddy, but this may be pushing the friendship somewhat.