Murfey's Law (12 page)

‘Tell me why then. I'd like to understand your side, I only know ‘Murfey’s Beach Jack'.’ he patted the top of the jar.

‘Well, ‘Murfey’s Beach Jack’ was probably very similar to Mr Jack James, husband to Robin, father to Lorikeet.’ Lori looked at Zeb expecting him to laugh, ‘Yes, Lorikeet is actually on my birth certificate.’

‘Hey, I love the name, I think your parents chose perfectly, I mean who am I to tease?’ Zeb smiled.

‘Yes, but your parents didn’t name you after a bloody parrot did they?’

‘No, I suppose not.’

Lori continued, ‘Anyway, Jack was a good father, he worked hard, he provided for us. He and Mum hadn’t planned on having me but they raised me well. I never wanted for anything.’

‘But then he left?’ Zeb spoke softly.

‘No.’

‘No? I thought…’

‘Yes I know, everyone ‘thinks’,’ Lori sighed. ‘That’s why people presume I’m over-reacting, like I’m a spoilt child still pissed off that my parents’ marriage broke down.’

‘So what really happened?’ Zeb was genuinely interested.

‘Before I came along Mum and Jack lived and loved through the Seventies, they partied pretty hard.’

‘Drugs?’

‘Yes, anything they could lay their hands on back then. Mum more so than Jack though.’

‘And this carried on after you were born?’ Zeb looked horrified.

‘Oh god no! No not at all. They both quit the minute Mum found out she was pregnant with me. Trouble is the effects of what she’d taken didn't show up until much later. I was about eleven when signs that something was seriously wrong emerged.’ Lori took a deep breath and kicked her feet a little in the water.

‘You ok?’ Zeb placed his hand on her knee.

Lori nodded. ‘About a month before Christmas I came home from school to find she had packed two bags, one each for her and I. Jack was still at work and Mum just said we had to leave right away. We couldn't wait for him. She told me we were moving far away, to a place where she'd lived when she was a little girl, because the food here in Australia was contaminated. She’d emptied the fridge and the entire pantry into two big bin bags and had put them outside on the kerb ready for the garbage collection. It was insane I know, but I think she really believed it. She convinced me that it wasn’t safe to stay, and I was so frightened of how she was behaving that I believed her.’

‘A psychotic episode?’ Zeb look shocked. ‘How the hell did she get out of the airport?’

‘Well, it was only the early stages of her illness. From the outside, she looked normal. It was really only Jack and I that saw her erratic behaviour at that point. And that’s what I never understood.’ Lori kicked the water again.

‘He didn’t come after you?’

‘No. He didn’t come after her, and he didn’t come after me. He just let her go. Let her take me to England . Between her episodes, when she was lucid, she’d call him, beg him to get in contact with me. I think she knew she was losing control and couldn’t take care of me any longer.’ Lori looked at Zeb. His face seemed twisted with disbelief.

‘So you had to take care of yourself,’ he stated.

‘Yes, and I took care of Mum. Nearly twelve years of varying degrees of psychosis. Sometimes she took the drugs the doctors prescribed her, sometimes she didn’t.’

Zeb looked uncomfortable, his hand twitched on her knee. ‘I had no idea.’

‘Well you wouldn't, I can't imagine he would have told anyone. He was probably glad to be rid of her. I just thought, expected even, that he'd come and get me one day. I loved Mum desperately of course, but it wasn't easy. I got by for as long as I could.’

‘And then?’

‘Then when I found her lining her meds up on the floor and smashing them into fine powder with one of my high heeled shoes because the government had apparently put microscopic tracking devices in them, I realised I couldn't look after her any more. I phoned the Doctor on the eve of my twenty-third birthday and he drew up the committal papers for me to sign the next morning.’

‘So she’s still there? Is that why you need to get back?’

‘No.’ Lori dipped her hands in the water then wiped her face with them. Without a single cloud for cover the sun was blazing down, making her skin hot to the touch. ‘Mum stayed in the Maudsley for nearly two years, took her meds every day and persuaded the Doctors she was better. The day they released her she bought a day tripper ticket for the London Underground. She rode it all day long and then at five o’clock in the middle of rush hour she jumped off a platform full of commuters. They said she died instantly.’

‘Fucking hell! That is, just, umm I actually don’t know what to say.’ Zeb ran his fingers through the short brown fuzz of his hair.

‘It’s ok, really, you don’t have to say anything Zeb. She died five years ago but I lost her when I was eleven. The same day I lost my father.’

The dolphins were long gone. Maybe they had sensed the significance of the task Lori now needed to carry out and had left her and Zeb to their privacy. Out there on their boards, it was almost silent. Not a breath of air and, strangely, not a seagull passed by. The sea was so flat and the sound of the gentle waves lapping on the beach didn’t reach where they were. Lori unscrewed the lid of the jar.

Woof!

Woof! Woof!

They both whipped their heads around just in time to see Bob launch himself off of the rock platform where he’d been sat observing them the whole time.

‘He’s a better swimmer than me, that’s clear.’ Lori laughed as she watched him powering through the blue-green sea towards them.

Zeb chuckled and patted the water, calling out encouragement, ‘Come on mate, come on! You can do it.’

When Bob had reached them, Zeb gripped him under his belly and heaved him up on to his board. His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth and he panted hard. Before he sat down he shook the water from his fur nearly dislodging Zeb from his seat.

‘Woah!’ Zeb fought to keep them upright.

Once Bob was settled and sat still on the board, Lori leant across and patted him affectionately. Zeb’s hand closed over the top of Lori’s and he gently threaded his fingers with hers. ‘Ready?’ He asked.

‘I am now.’ Lori smiled, looking at Bob.

Releasing her hand Zeb wrapped his arms around Bob and sat in silence as Lori carefully sprinkled the contents of the jar into the water.

The three of them waited and watched as the current gently carried Jack away.

Back on the rock platform, exhausted and hungry Lori handed Zeb his second board. He slid it into the carry case with the other and zipped it up.

‘Do you want to come in for umm… some lunch?’ Lori asked him, unsure of what the time actually was. It was the least she could do to repay him for everything he’d done.

Zeb stood up and lifted the strap of the huge bag over his shoulder. They were barely inches apart. A smiled played on his lips and he wiped Lori’s dripping wet ponytail off of her shoulder. ‘I would love to, and I mean really love to Lori, but I need to get to sleep, and well, I just don’t think I should come in. Not today.’

Before Lori had time to realise how her innocent offer of lunch had come out totally wrong, Zeb had already disappeared up the path that ran between the shop and number twenty-five.

‘Oh crap.’ Lori rolled her eyes. If she sprinted, she could probably make it up through the garden and out the bushes, cutting him off. She could explain that she had absolutely not been insinuating they do anything other than share some bread and cheese.

Wait though…Lori replayed his response to her offer through her mind. As she repeated his words silently to herself, she felt her face burn.

‘Oh holy crap.’

‘Four bunches of flowers, an enormous basket of fruit and veg, two bottles of wine, and a beautiful box of chocolate truffles.’ 

‘And don't forget the string of gourmet sausages,’ Jenny chipped in.
 

‘Who'd have thought there would be all this home-made industry going on around here?’ Lori was both shocked and touched that so many people had dropped by to bring gifts and offer their condolences whilst she'd been out with Zeb this morning.
 

‘Murfey's Beach has all sorts of hidden secrets,’ Jenny said as she put the last bunch of flowers onto the windowsill. Two saucepans, a milk jug and a schooner glass now adorned the kitchen, Jack of course had no need for vases. The sweet scent of Larkspur and Delphinium filled the air.
 

‘Really?’ Lori scoffed. ‘You mean like how what happened to me last night stayed a secret for all of umm... eight hours?’
 

‘That's different. When Jonah came by with this for you,’ Jenny waved the purse-sized capsicum spray in Lori's direction, ‘it obviously required some explaining.’
 

‘Yes, well I'm not entirely comfortable with how quickly he was able to get a hold of that.’ Lori pointed at it with both hands for emphasis, her eyebrows raised in insinuation.
 

Jenny put it back beside the bottles of Elderberry and Strawberry wines from Mrs Carter, one of the Bridge Club members, flicked the switch on the kettle and collected two mugs from the draining board beside the sink.
 

Her reaction to Lori's face had been relatively calm. Despite a few almost maternal-type mumblings about being more careful in the future, thankfully there hadn't been any signs of a full blown melt down. Lori supposed this was in part due to Jonah's visit to the shop and subsequent disclosure whilst she'd been out with Zeb. In fact, if she was being completely honest she was actually grateful that he'd told Jenny the sordid details. It saved her the shame of having to retell the sorry story herself.
 

Her stomach sated with tea and an amazing pork and fennel sausage sandwich, Lori left Jenny to ring up a counter full of toilet rolls for the American family from Saturday's open home and took off upstairs for a shower. 

For once she outlasted the hot water. After initially washing her hair and swiftly running some coconut body wash over her skin with a sponge, Lori had sunk down into the corner of the cubicle to replay the morning's events over and over in her mind. Thinking about how Zeb's strong arms had wrapped her in an embrace so close that every inch of their bare skin had touched made her skin prickle. As she thought about his parting words her face burnt and her insides fluttered. 

When the water finally ran cold she turned off the taps and stepped out from behind the glass, wrapping herself in the only dry towel in the bathroom, which hung where she'd left it this morning.
 

With the mirror now disrobed Lori took a long hard look at herself. One side of her bottom lip was almost double the size that it should be. The cut, red and raw, ran from the inside near the top of her tooth, out and down, ending at the soft line between the pink of her lip and the cream of her skin.
 

Desperation was no excuse for irresponsibility.
 

‘You're going to have to place a few orders I'm afraid,’ Jenny called out from the shop when she heard Lori come back into the kitchen. 

Grabbing a fresh notebook and pen from her desk Lori went to join her.
 

‘With the kids holidays nearly upon us, not to mention Christmas, things are going to start getting pretty crazy around here,’ Jenny explained as she straightened the tins of pear quarters which, thanks to Lori's reorganisation, were no longer situated beside the panty pads.
 

‘Just how busy can this dinky little place get?’ Lori asked, unconvinced.
 

‘Well, there are just short of three hundred houses here in the village, yet with three quarters of them being holiday homes, the population of this dinky little place explodes almost tenfold within hours of the end of year school bells ringing. You add that to the day trippers and you've got yourself over a thousand people a day, for six weeks straight.’
 

‘A captive audience.’ Lori felt a little bubble of excitement rise inside her.
 

‘Indeed.’ Jenny smiled, watching Lori's face light up.
 

‘The next few open homes could go off!’ rubbing her hands together in glee Lori started making a mental to-do list.
 

Jenny's smile didn't drop beat, her eyes though, told a different story. Lori knew she had been referring to the huge business potential, but selling up was what she came here to do, and she needed to see it through to the end. It wasn't as though she could just drop her old life in the UK and make a new one in Murfey's Beach even if she wanted to, which she didn't. After all, what was there for her here?
 

Jenny turned back to the shelf of tinned fruit.
 

They sat in companionable silence for well over an hour. Lori filled several pages of her notebook with a very long stock list while Jenny jumped between dusting shelves and serving anyone that came in. 

‘I think we ought to talk about paying you a wage for all the hours you put in here,’ Lori said when she'd finished counting a box full of highlighter pens. She couldn't actually afford to pay Jenny, the shop had barely made a profit in the few weeks she'd been here, and that was really only down to her replacing the lollies and ice creams, although it had been worth it just to see the kids faces. It was the right thing to do though, she put in far too many hours for free as it was.
 

‘No. I don't think that's right,’ Jenny dismissed her coolly.
 

‘Umm, ok, well...’ Lori hadn't even formulated a response before Jenny continued.
 

‘You could do something else for me though.’ She had a glint in her eye.
 

‘Oh yes?’
 

‘Yes, I want to make you a proposition. Let's have tea.’ Jenny put down the duster and walked off with purpose toward the kitchen.
 

‘Tea is the proposition? Or tea is to be had whilst propositioning me?’ Lori asked facetiously.
 

Jenny laughed and beckoned for Lori to follow. ‘Just humour me for a little bit.’
 

Her proposal was actually very well thought out, she had clearly put a lot of time into it. 

‘So, instead of paying you for the hours you already do, you want me to let you put in even more hours and payment is to be made in the form of allowing you to start a cafe out the back?’ Referring back to her notepad she tried to summarise the half an hour conversation into one breath. Jenny had gone into quite some detail covering everything from profit sharing to menu and pricing approval processes and so, out of habit, Lori had taken comprehensive notes.
 

‘That's it in a nutshell.’ Jenny put down her empty mug and held out her hand. ‘Let's shake on it. No need for any paperwork or other such nonsense.’
 

‘Woah! Hang on there.’ Lori too put down her mug, but instead slid her hands firmly underneath her bottom.
 

‘Come on Lorikeet, what have you got to lose? I'm putting forward the little bit of capital expenditure for the equipment, you are simply lending me the room and deck out the back. The hours won't even interfere with the community evening events.’
 

‘I'm not worried about me.’ Lori looked pointedly at her friend who was jiggling in her seat with excitement. ‘I'm just concerned that for one, you'll be spending even more time away from whatever it is you used to do before Jack died, and two, what if I do find a buyer for the shop and the investors vote that I am cleared to sell?’
 

‘Well, before your father passed I did the same as what I do now, I volunteered my time. Not that it's any of your business but I retired quite comfortably several years ago now, and with no husband or children to worry about I need to fill my days so that I don't turn into some sort of crazy cat collecting spinster.’ She laughed with such vigour the stool creaked loudly underneath her.
 

Lori removed her hands and drained her mug.
 

‘And to your other point,’ Jenny continued, ‘if you do find someone to buy the place then it'll be up to them as to whether they want to keep me on. That need not be your concern.’

‘Hmm,’ Lori paused, momentarily wondering if she would regret doing something that would only embed her into the shop and Murfey's Beach even more, but then extended her hand, ‘ah what the hell.’

‘Oh my goodness! Lorikeet you will NOT regret this I promise you.’ Jenny launched herself enthusiastically from her seat, knocking it to the floor where it broke into three pieces. Her short little arms gripped Lori in a tight squeeze. ‘Don't worry about that horrible old stool I have so many of your father's hand made tables and chairs stored in my shed I could cater for a wedding!’
 

She hadn't been exaggerating Lori realised, as they carried back their final table. They'd used what was stored under the deck first, then headed next door to number twenty-one for some more. 

With a little juggling and a fair amount of swearing they managed to fit eight round tables in the back room, and six on the deck. There was just enough room to place four chairs around each setting, and if ever there was a need for more, though god knows what for, Jenny's shed housed another four complete sets.
 

‘Eighteen tables and seventy-two chairs, what on earth was my father planning on doing with all of them?’ Lori collapsed into one of the seats, exhausted from the heavy lifting. Her hands caressed the beautifully carved arms.
 

‘Well, I'm not exactly sure. All I can tell you is that I came to the village nearly fifteen years ago now, and the day I moved in he had a delivery of the most beautiful timber. I remember it clearly because the old fashioned delivery truck was blocking the way of my removalists. When I asked him what he was doing with it he just said he'd started making tables and chairs a few years earlier. Then, every year on exactly the same day the man came and delivered more wood, and your father would take a year to make the set, entirely by hand. Just as he finished, the next year would roll around and he'd start all over again.’
 

A sharp pain stung Lori's throat as she spoke, ‘Eighteen years?’
 

‘What? Oh yes, you're probably right, eighteen sets for eighteen years.’ Jenny nodded squeezing herself into the seat opposite.
 

‘Did you move in on the sixth of January by any chance?’ Lori swallowed the lump in her throat, her gaze far ahead on the horizon.
 

Jenny gasped, ‘I did! How on earth did you know?’
 

‘Just a hunch.’
 

The sun setting behind the house cast a long cool shadow across the garden where Bob lay prostrate. Little tufts of grass, wafted by the cool breeze, tickled his face making him sneeze and rub his muzzle comically into the lawn as though desperately trying to scratch an itch. After a cloudless day, the afternoon's southerly change brought with it the threat of a storm. If it came to fruition, it'd be welcome, the few plants in the garden looked in dire need of a drink. 

‘Knock knock!’
 A voice called out from inside the shop. Before Lori or Jenny could get up from the comfort of their chairs Kristy appeared at the back door, she was flanked by Simon. 

‘Kristy! Simon! How lovely to see you both.’ Jenny almost jumped upright.