The Goodbye Girl (12 page)

“And a hug?”  Nick opened his arms and started f
orward.  “Come here, Paulie, let Uncle Nick and Uncle Alex give you a little comfort.”

“Touch me and you’ll both be nutless.  I’m not that desperate.”  Paul shuddered.

Alex grinned.  “So, you coming in for coffee and some food?”

“I was thinking we could hit the café before work.
  You boys on today or off?”

“On.”  Alex nodded.

“Count me in,” Nick added.

“Great.  I’m only working until lunchtime, seeing as its Saturday.”  Paul paused.  “Or maybe tonight if Becky’s still got the shits up with me.”

“Maybe you should just work right through the night?” Nick suggested.

“Don’t worry, Becky will be all sweet by the time lover boy gets home.”  Alex nodded at Paul.  “We’ll be there soon, just got some washing to hang out.”

“Washing?”  Paul’s’ eyebrows went up.  “That’s women’s work.”

“You poor dumb bastard.”

“What?”

~*~

Nick was fast coming to rediscover that he enjoyed working with his hands.  Building things was something he found satisfying, watching things slowly form from a blueprint to reality.  It gave him a sense of fulfilment.

Maybe he should think about going into building
or something similar.

Or m
aybe he should think about going into handyman work.  Yeah.  Standing back, he nodded to himself as he studied the repair work he’d done inside the café.  The shelf he’d reattached to the wall, the repair work on the wall, the chair with the reattached leg, the broken tile replaced, he’d enjoyed doing it all.  He’d always had a flair for repair work of all kinds, had learned a lot in his years working with his father in his repair shop after school and for two years when he’d left school early and trained under his father with the plan of going into partnership with him when he got old enough.  He’d loved it then, had forgotten how much since, but he’d just discovered that he still enjoyed it.

Yeah, he’d seriously
consider leaving the Army, doing a few courses, open up a general repair shop here in Whicha.  It certainly appealed.  But he’d mull it over a little more, see if there’d be enough work.  Maybe he could go to outlying towns as well, be more mobile.

“Nick, you are awesome
.” Maryanne surveyed the work he’d completed.  “You’re totally wasted on Paul.”

“
Hey.”  Paul appeared in the doorway.  “I am here, you know.”

“Your point?’ she asked.

“I can hear you.”

“Your point?”

Spreading his arms out, he raised both eyebrows.

She mimicked him.

“No respect,” he said.  “None at all.”

“I knew you when we were all in nappies.  You really think I’m going to respect you
now
?”

With a sigh, he entered the room.  His gaze travelled around, studying
the work that Nick had done.  “Wow.”

“Yeah, great job, huh?”  Maryanne smiled.

Nick glanced sideways at Paul.  Hmmm, had Paul been hoping to conquer this side of things, the handyman side?  Apart from owning and running the only carpenter’s business in Whicha, he also owned the only mechanics garage even though he wasn’t a mechanic.

Not too sure what to expect, Nick was relieved when Paul grinned and slapped him on the shoulder.  “Ma
te, just what we need!  Can you tile walls?”

“Sure.  I helped a few mates over the years with their homes, renovating and stuff.  You know, general stuff.”

“Building things, making things?”

“Pretty much.  I’ll give anything a go and what I don’t know, I’ll
learn.”

Paul’s smile widened.  “We need a handyman around town.”

Alex entered the room.  “Did I hear you say you’re thinking of starting up a handyman business?”

“Not me, but Nick  could do it.”  Paul nodded towards the repaired wall.  “He’s got a good eye, good steady hand, got the smarts, too.”

Alex nodded.  “That he does.”

Pleased, but hiding it because he didn’t believe in tooting his own horn, Nick picked up the dust pan and broom and handed them to Maryanne.  “I better head back out and help
Paul.”

Paul shook his head.  “No need.  We’re finished
for the weekend now, back Monday.  The boys have gone home already.”

“How about staying for lunch?” Maryanne asked.

“Thanks, but I better go and see if Becky’s over her snit.”

“She should be,
the cause of her snit is right here.”

“No respect.”  Paul walked out.

“Buy her some flowers and be humble, for crying out loud!” Maryanne yelled after him before turning to Alex and Nick.  “How about it, boys?  Lunch is on me for all the help.”

“No need for that,” Nick
said.

“Whatever.” 
Placing a hand on each of their backs, she gave a not-so-subtle shove.  “Come on.  Meat pies are hot.”

They washed their hands in the staff bathroom and had just taken a seat at the booths when
Harly crossed to them with a cup of hot coffee each.  “Here you go.”

Alex shifted over so that she could sit beside him in the booth.  No sooner had she done so than Charlotte
Harmon came through the door.  She took one look around the café, spotted Harly and hurried over.  “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”
Harly queried.

Nick listened with only half an ear, his attention mostly
focussed outside the window as he watched a blue Transit van drive by.  Hmmm, that looked like Bree’s van, was, in fact, Bree’s van, he could tell by the dented driver’s door.  Lifting the lace curtains slightly, he peered out as the van disappeared down the street.

“I just saw Bree,” Charlotte announced.  “And she’s had a confrontation with
aliens!”

That
caught Nick’s attention.  He swung around to stare at her, pretty sure he was wearing the same astonished expression as his friends.

“Yes.”  Charlotte nodded.  “Last night she was on a hunt
and-”

“A hunt?” Nick repeated.

Alex cut his eyes to him.

Charlotte’s blue-rinsed hair didn’t move an inch as she nodded
vigorously.  The woman had to have half a tin of hair spray in there.  “On a hunt and came full upon an alien spaceship!  And she has the bruises to prove it!”

“
Bruises?” 
What the hell…?

“Nearly got her eye torn out, her wrists slashed.” 
Leaning forward, her voice dropped to a whisper.  “I think she fought hard but the brave girl won’t admit it.”

Nick tensed, already starting to move across the booth seat to get out.

Harly grabbed his hand without looking at him. “Have you actually
seen
Bree today, Charlotte?”

“With my own eyes.”  Charlotte shuddered, but her eyes shone with excitement.  “How she got away is a miracle.”

Nick didn’t wait.  He tugged his hand out from under Harly’s, gave Alex a short, sharp nod and left.  Striding out to where his Toyota Landcruiser was parked, he beeped the locks open and got in, started the engine and backed out of the parking bay.  Only as he was driving in the same direction as the Ford Transit had disappeared did he suddenly realise something, and he switched on the hands-free mobile phone.

Alex answered
almost immediately.  “Going hunting, mate?”

“
Bet your arse.  Where does she live?”

“
You mean Alien Girl?”

“Ha ha.  Just tell me.”

Amusement glimmered in Alex’s tone.  “I wouldn’t take everything Charlotte says as gospel, Nick.  Maryanne says she saw Bree and she certainly didn’t look torn up.”

Somehow, that was
no small comfort.  Nick wanted to see that for himself.  Not only that, why the hell had she gone on a hunt without him after she’d agreed to his accompanying her?  Damn fool woman was going to get hurt, running around at night in the pouring rain chasing lights through fields on her own.  If she got really hurt, she’d be alone with no help for God knew how long.

Unacceptable.

“Just tell me, Alex.”

“Sure.”  There was a low conversation, then Alex came back onto the phone.  “Lot 54, about half a mile out of town.  She’s on the
main road heading west, left hand side.  Old house well back from the road.”

“Thanks.”  Nick hung up.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she wasn’t home but he sure as hell knew he was going to find her.  Why it mattered so much, he had no idea.

Okay, he kind
of did know.  Over the months they’d written, he’d formed a kinship with her and now he’d met her face-to-face several times there was just something there, something that appealed to him, something that made him feel like he was - what?  Obsessing?

Shoving
both that thought and his puzzling reaction aside, Nick drove through town and out onto the highway, passing the quiet fields with their combination of crops, sheep and cattle.  The sunlight was bright, drying out the mud puddles, and normally he’d enjoy sitting back and letting the chill wind blow in the window, enjoying the view, but his concern now was for Bree.

He found her property easy enough, the battered sign with the lot number on it nailed to a post beside the surprisingly sealed track of the driveway.
Turning onto it, he drove up to the house, seeing it set well back.

It was old, like Harly and Alex’s home, big verandas, stone and wood, big windows with lace curtains, comfortable and old.
He liked old houses, but right now his gaze fastened on the Ford Transit with the generous backside sticking out of the side door as Bree bent over doing something just inside.

Pulling up not far from her, N
ick turned off the Landcruiser and got out, swinging the door shut behind him.

Bree hadn’t heard him arrive, which wasn’t really surprising seeing as how Wendy
Matthews was singing loudly from inside the Ford Transit, a song Nick recognised as ‘Feel Like Taking Your Man’.  And Bree was singing along with gusto.

A
lot
of gusto but not a lot of tune.

However, she was
obviously enjoying herself if the sway of that generously rounded derriere was anything to go by.  It filled out her slacks lovingly and he had to fist his hand to stop himself reaching out and laying his palm against one  tempting buttock.

His other impulse was to s
mack it, but that particular one he fought down.

Crossing the distance between them, he slapped his hand against the door frame of the side door with a loud
bang
.

Bree shot upward as though she’d been shot, swinging around with a can
of something in her hand with which she proceeded to liberally douse him, aiming right for his face.

“What the -
hell
!”  Nick managed to clap his hand over his face before the spray hit.

It was sticky and it smelled freaky.

“Nick?”

Nose screwed up against the odour,
he waved the spray residue in the air away before lowering his hand cautiously to see her looking at him in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” she yelled above Wendy Matthews.

“Looking for you,” he growled back.

“What?”

“Looking for you.”

“
Hang on.”  She climbed into the van, reaching over to turn off the engine.  Wendy Matthews’s voice disappeared and only the silence of their surroundings was heard.

Not really silent, considering the native life in the bushes and the odd sound of a cow lowing or a sheep bleating, but it was quiet.  Country quiet.  Nick
sucked in a deep breath.  It should have been calming, but oddly enough it wasn’t as calming as usual.

Bree appeared in the doorway of the van.  “Now, what did you say?”

“I said, I came looking for you.”

“Oh.” 
Jumping down, she flung her arms out to the sides, a wide grin on her face.  “Well, here I am.  You need seek no more.”

Yeah, here she was, and now he could see her face
clearly.  There was a scratch along her eye socket, too bloody close to the eye for comfort, and when his gaze cut down to her wrist - first one then the other - he saw the white Primapore on her left wrist.

Grabbing her forearm, he brought her wrist up and looked accusingly at her.

Eyebrows arched, she looked back at him in silence.

Reaching
out with his other hand, he touched his finger to the scratch along the bottom bone of her eye socket. An unexpected emotion swept through him, one that made him want to cup her cheek and lay his lips along that scratch and kiss it better.

Idiot.  She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if she’d done as
we agreed.
He shoved that stupid emotion right down where it belonged and focussed on the insubordination at hand.  “Spill, Bree.”