Monkey Business (23 page)

I was aware of a sound near the house. Everyone turned to look. It was the crunching of car tyres on gravel. A beautiful sound.
Any
sound that distracted Samson from his current mission was a beautiful sound.

Out of a silver SUV stepped Emeline. At first I was beyond thrilled to see her, but then I worried what she'd think when she saw me there at her husband's house. She marched down the sloping ground towards us, murder in her eyes but not for me. I looked at Samson, and his expression reminded me of my own when I'd first seen the crocs.

His voice suddenly had honey in it, and his face was lit with false happiness. He opened his arms, welcoming his wife as he strode towards her. Kitty hid behind one of Samson's men.

Emeline's eyes widened when she took in the scene, in particular the sight of me in my blue sequined dress.

‘Erica. My dear friend.'

Her friend! Oh, thank God. ‘Emeline. How lovely.' I laughed hysterically.

‘What are you doing here, at my dreadful husband's house?' She pointed at Jack and Joe. ‘And who are these men?' She turned to her husband. ‘Samson!'

He jumped and said something gushy. She pointed at Jack and Joe, speaking angrily. Samson spoke back, his voice regaining some of its authority. They snapped at each other in Portuguese.

Emeline spotted Kitty and narrowed her eyes. ‘Do I know you?' Kitty shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

Samson was then talking loudly and smiling again, waving his arms around. Trying to push his wife towards the house.

But Emeline batted him away, pointed at Kitty, said to me, ‘Is this your friend?'

‘My friend? No, never seen her before.' I felt only slightly guilty about that. I didn't want Emeline thinking I was in any way associated with her husband's philandering, and besides, it seemed entirely possible that Kitty would actually enjoy watching me play with the crocodiles. She'd probably like to get in there herself for a game of tag.

Emeline scanned the scene, and if I hadn't been so terrified I would have been fascinated to watch all the big tough guys turn to jelly in front of her.

‘Is this your man?' Emeline asked me, pointing to Joe.

‘Ah, er, they both are.'

‘I beg your pardon?'

‘I mean, um . . .' I pointed to Jack. ‘Him.' I hoped Jack didn't think I'd been going around telling people he was ‘my man', even though I had.

‘And what about this one?' she said, pointing to Joe again.

‘Our friend.'

She inspected them. ‘Will he be the best man at your wedding?'

I could feel the blush crawling up my neck and I didn't dare look at Jack. ‘Oh, yes, definitely.'

Emeline turned to Samson again and shouted at him. He shouted back this time, and they argued. Samson stormed away towards the house.

Emeline said to me, ‘You can go, Erica.'

I squealed and ran to hug her. ‘Thank you, thank you!'

‘But,' she said, ‘I am sorry. My husband will not let the men go and I cannot ask him to do that.'

‘No! Oh, please. Jack needs a doctor.
Please,
Emeline.'

She shook her head. ‘I am sorry.'

Jack nodded at me.
Go.
He looked so unwell, swaying where he stood, leaning on Joe.

Emeline said, ‘Now, my dear, would you like a lift back to town? Or do you have someone waiting? I saw a car at the bottom of the driveway. '

I nodded dumbly, shook my head, said in a small voice, ‘I don't know.' But I didn't want to sit in a car with Emeline, making small talk. ‘Yes, I think someone's waiting.' I wanted to stay with Jack and Joe, but I knew there was little point. I was of no use to the boys if I were stuck in a cage with them. As long as one of us was free, there was a chance of getting help. But what could I do? Who could help? We were back where we started, but now I had a whole lot more information than I had when I first arrived. Now I
knew
there was no point my being here in Saint Sebastian.

A tear ran down my face. ‘Thank you, Emeline, very much. It was so nice of you to help us.'

‘I'm sorry I cannot help you more, my dear, but I will ask my husband not to kill your men.' Her eyes cut to Kitty and Kitty shrank away. ‘He will want to please me, I think.' She put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. ‘Perhaps I can persuade him to wait a day or two.'

I stared over my shoulder at Jack. He was watching me walk away, nodding. I couldn't help it. I broke away from Emeline and ran to Jack, throwing myself at him, sobbing into his neck. His mouth was at my ear. ‘Go straight to the airport. Do you hear?'

‘No, no, I'm not leaving you.'

He tried to shoulder me away, but I hung on. And then two pairs of hands pulled me back and pushed me to Emeline. She was waiting for me. I walked past her and didn't look back.

I walked down Samson's driveway, numb, wondering if I could take comfort in the fact that I'd at least seen Jack again before he died. Or would I have been better off at home, hearing about it by phone? There was rustling in the trees just near me. Kitty jumped out, shocking me from my thoughts. I let out a yell.

‘Hello, Erica Jewell! Surprise!'

‘What are you doing?'

‘Oh,' she said, ‘they told me to go. I think Samson's men knew it probably wasn't good to keep me around. Emeline might have remembered where she's seen me before.' Kitty gave me a wink.

I walked on. Kitty hummed and skipped. I wiped my nose on my arm and wondered how I was going to get back to town. I thought I could probably just start walking and see what happened. Kitty might have some ideas. Maybe she had some clients nearby she could ask for a lift. Actually, I couldn't give a shit what happened. But as we approached the bottom of the driveway, I saw Phil's ute in exactly the same spot it had been when he dropped us off yesterday. Surely he hadn't waited?

I peered in the window. He swigged his beer. I opened the door and got in, sliding to the centre.

‘Have you been waiting here since yesterday?' I said, as Kitty got in next to me and slammed the door.

‘Nah. Had to work.'

‘Well, thanks for coming back, Phil.' I looked at all the stubbies on the floor at my feet. There didn't seem to be any full ones left.

Phil pulled out slowly and hit his high beams.

We'd been driving about twenty minutes, and I was lost in more depressed thought, when Phil said, ‘Where's ya bloke?'

I glanced at Kitty. She looked happy, her head back on the headrest, eyes closed, wind blowing her hair. I wanted whatever she was having.

‘It was a bit of a mess,' I said with a big sigh. In a monotone I explained what had happened.

Kitty was staring at me.

‘What?' I said.

‘
You
killed Rupert Berringer?'

‘It was an accident.'

‘Oh, you are the most exciting friend I have ever had.' She laughed brightly.

I remembered then that Berringer was a friend of Phil's. But his expression hadn't changed – maybe he'd heard about Rupert. Maybe he didn't mind. Maybe he could take over Rupert's Tupperware business or something. Anyway, who cared? Emotion came over me again. A wave of it. A tsunami.

‘I don't know what I'm going to do now,' I said and started to cry.

Phil accelerated a bit and Kitty threw her arms around me.

‘Mon ami – Kitty est là pour toi, n'aie pas peur!'

I said, in response to whatever she'd just said, ‘Thanks, Kitty, but I'll take it from here.'

In the morning, I was on the stool next to Phil at the Bum Crack Bar as soon as it opened. I sipped my beer, waffling on and on about the past couple of days, trying to work out how I could have been more useful, blaming myself for everything that had gone wrong.

‘You know what I mean?' I said to Phil but he was staring, fearful, at the fridge. Its reflection contained two warrior guys who were storming in my direction. I spun on my stool as they stood either side of me. They said nothing, just picked me up, stool and all, and walked me out of the bar.

Good, I thought. They're going to kill me. I hoped they'd get it over with quickly. I was marched outside and across the road to where Samson's black Hummer was waiting, its engine running. I felt a grain of hope that he was delivering Jack and Joe, but that hope dissolved as the door was opened and I was thrown into the back next to Samson.

He said something snarly to the men and they shut the door, leaving us alone. His angry scowl vanished in a flash and he gazed at me with a look of . . . what was it? Desperation?

‘You must help me!' he said.

‘Ah . . .'

‘My wife, she is furious.'

‘Um . . .'

‘I am afraid she will speak to her family about me.'

‘Her family?'

‘Yes. They are wealthy, powerful people. Oh, I have been so stupid. How could I think spending time with that
whore
 . . .'

‘Kitty?'

‘You must help me,' he said again, this time clutching my arm. ‘You! You have killed my source. They won't work now, with Berringer gone.' He shoved me away, not too hard.

‘Who won't work?'

‘The thieves. The only chance I had to please her.'

‘Emeline?'

‘Of course.'

‘What can I do?' Was there a chance here? A chance for Jack and Joe?

Samson reached behind him and produced a yellow, dog-eared brochure. I tried to see what it was, but he was clutching it to his chest. He eventually showed me.

‘This is Emeline's. She got it in Australia many years ago and has kept it always. She asks me every time I travel to your country to bring her some of these items, and I have tried, but it is impossible.'

‘I think you have to have a party,' I said, gazing in wonder at the ancient Tupperware catalogue. ‘Have you tried ordering online? Or eBay?'

‘Oh, yes. But the thieves in this country . . . bah! My order will not pass customs here. Someone steals it always.'

I was pretty surprised about that. Not the thievery, but the cheek of the thieves. ‘Um, do they know who they're stealing from?'

He waved his hand in disgust and stared out the window, biting down on his knuckle.

‘May I?' I held out my hand. He gave me the catalogue, with some hesitation. I opened it.

He flipped the pages to a black and white photo of my mother's special-edition lettuce crisper.

‘Here.' He pointed. ‘This is the one she wants.'

‘I can get this for you,' I said.

He leaned closer. ‘You can? This exact one?'

‘Ah, yes.'

‘I would forever be in your debt.'

Samson was so happy. Hope welled inside me. I was afraid to ask, but, ‘My friends . . . are they still alive?'

He turned his head. Looked out the window again. ‘Yes. They are alive.'

‘If I get this for you, you'll release them?'

His head snapped back and his body jerked away from me, as though I'd bitten him. ‘No! No, I would lose the respect of my colleagues.'

‘We'd be very discreet. No one would know. You could tell them you threw us all to the crocodiles. I can get us out of here without anyone knowing. Truly, I can. I will get this lettuce crisper for Emeline!'

Samson regarded me, frowning. He was considering it, I knew.

‘Oh,
please
,' I said. And then, in a smaller voice, my eyes cast down, ‘I'll do anything.'

I looked up at him and I knew he knew I meant
anything
. And I would have. Of course. If it would save my friends' lives.

He shook his head. ‘No. If my wife found out . . .' He shuddered. ‘Very well,' he said. ‘You will get this item and I will release your friends.'

‘Oh, thank you. Thank you! And,' I ventured, ‘you'll take care of them until I can bring the item?'

‘Yes, yes.' He waved his hand again. ‘Now, you must go. And you must show fear when you leave this vehicle!'

‘No worries. I can do that. Thank you so much.'

I pushed open the door, setting my expression to one of terror. I even fell from the car onto my hands and knees, letting out a sob. I stood and ran across the road, wailing.

Everyone from the Bum Crack Bar was at the doors and windows, watching me. Even Phil had left his stool. I rushed past them all, shouting, ‘I need a phone, I need a phone!'

I knew Lucy would be sleeping – it was late morning in Melbourne and she'd been working night shift. She wouldn't be happy, but that wasn't my problem. My problem was that she didn't pick up the phone. I had no choice but to call Steve and ask him to go around and wake her. There was no point asking Steve to do what I needed done. He just wasn't capable of such treachery.

He was worried about me, asked what was happening. Lucy had told him what I'd done, where I'd gone, even though she shouldn't have. I simply told him I had a chance to rescue Jack, but I needed Lucy's help.

‘No worries,' he said, when I told him it was a matter of life or death. He was a little hesitant, though. He and I both knew we were potentially risking
his
life by getting him to wake Lucy. I said I'd call Lucy again in twenty minutes and we hung up.

When I called back, she said, ‘If someone isn't about to die I'll make sure they are.'

At the sound of her voice, emotion overwhelmed me. ‘Luce . . .'

‘Honey, what's happening?'

‘They're going to kill Jack.'

‘You found him? Who's going to kill him?'

‘It's too much to explain, but I can save him. I need you to get something for me.'

‘Of course, hon. What do you need?'

‘I need you to go to my parents' house . . .' I told Lucy she needed to break in, tie them up – I didn't care. She just needed to get Mum's lettuce crisper. The special-edition one still in its box. ‘It might be in the cupboard on top of Mum's wardrobe – remember where she used to hide the Christmas presents, where we always found them? But you'll need to take Steve and his boltcutters in case it's still in the locked cupboard.'

Lucy said, ‘Okaaaaay.'

‘I'll call her, try to get them out of the house.'

‘Okay, sweetie. I'll go there now.'

‘You remember where the spare key is?'

‘Of course.'

‘Thank you, Lucy, thank you!'

I took some deep breaths and practised my call to Mum. It had to sound convincing. And it had to be something
really
important to get her out immediately. I practised and practised my happy voice. And then I dialled.

‘Hi, Mum. It's me!'

‘Well, it's nice of you to call your mother for a change. You sound very excited.'

‘I am because you'll never guess what happened. Jack proposed to me last night!'

Mum screamed into the phone and started crying. I felt a bit bad.

‘I wanted you to be the first to know.'

She was hiccupping and making no sense. She spluttered, ‘He proposed on a Sunday. The Good Lord is watching.'

‘Mum, listen, I need you to go somewhere right now for me.'

‘Now?' she squeaked.

‘Yes, it's important. Can you go and choose some wedding stationery for us? Jack wants to get it organised as soon as possible.'

‘Oh! Oh! Let me talk to him!'

‘No, Mum. He's not here. Can you go now? Please?'

‘Well, I have to wake your father – he's snoring – and I need to put some lipstick on.'

‘Mum.' I tried to calm my rising voice. ‘You can put your lippy on in the car. Please just go. I don't want Jack to have time to change his mind.'

That did the trick. Mum said goodbye and slammed down the phone.

Lucy picked up immediately when I called an hour later.

‘God, take your time why don't you?' she said. ‘I've been sitting here staring at the phone for ages.'

‘Did you get it?'

‘Of course.'

‘Oh my God —'

‘Steve had to use his boltcutters. We felt really bad about doing that to your parents.'

‘So you got the lettuce crisper in the box?'

‘Yep.'

‘You are the
best
friend.'

She said, ‘Now, how the hell am I supposed to get it to you and get enough sleep before I start work tonight?'

‘Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Um, okay, you'll have to courier it. High speed, whatever it takes. I'll give you my credit card details.'

‘No go, hon. While I was waiting I called all the courier companies. None of them will do it. They can't guarantee it won't get stolen at the other end. In fact, they said, unless you know someone, it
will
get stolen at the other end.'

Remembering my conversation with Samson, I knew that even knowing someone wouldn't guarantee a thing. I deflated. ‘Then I don't know what to do.'

‘Sweetie, ask around and see what you can come up with, huh? But for now I need more sleep. I'll keep my mobile with me.'

‘Okay, Luce. Thanks so much.'

‘Love you, babe,' she said.

We hung up and I sat on the bed with my head in my hands. I couldn't cry any more. I was dry. What to do? I looked around the room, which depressed the hell out of me. So I slumped down the stairs and into the bar. I sat next to Phil and told him what had happened with Samson in the car and then with Lucy on the phone. He didn't even look surprised. Just sucked on his beer. He nodded in understanding about my problem with couriers.

‘Ya friend needs to get the thing to Darwin,' he said.

‘Why?'

‘I can bring it on the barge.'

I stared at Phil for a full five seconds before I threw my arms around him and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. I retreated quickly, not only because it wasn't a very pleasant experience, but also because he clearly got a big shock.