A Shot at Freedom (18 page)

Chapter Thirty Three

David

High on the cliff top, David’s gaze fixed on the moonlight reflected in choppy seas. The fingers on his plastered wrist were now strong enough to lift a full bottle to his lips. The liquid was light, and heated his mouth and throat, offering a sting in each swallow. It made him feel something, but blocked out the pain shutting down his thoughts.

Gloria’s mobile vibrated in his pocket. He read the text
.
“Ok, now u have my no. call when u want.”

He stared at it, wondering if Gloria had a death wish. He was taking a big enough gamble by walking around in daylight. He shoved the phone back in his pocket. He had a flash of what could happen if Chas worked out he was still close by. Maybe he was a bit like Gloria. Dying might be okay.

The liquid swished around the bottle. He longed for rum or bourbon, a darker spirit, but vodka helped him keep his drinking secret.

***

Brooke

“Hey! I need those plates stacked properly,” Brooke said to the waitress as she sprayed
down a rack and fed them to the dishwasher.

“
Come on. Can’t you do it? I’ve got three tables of people waiting to place an order,” the girl grumbled.

“Sorry. If you don’t do your job, then I get behind and I’m the first person you’ll w
hinge to when you run out of teaspoons. Otherwise I’d help you out.” The plates she stacked on the next two racks, cracked against each other, as her hands shook. She was just grateful her voice stayed steady.

Under Brooke’s watchful eye, the waitress stacked her plates in the right piles. On the way out the door she ran into Julie
. “Watch out for Brooke. She’s firing.”

Julie laughed. “That’s it Brooke. Keep them in line.”

Brooke didn’t care. She put her head down and started in on wiping the cutlery.

Another waitress came in catching the tail end of the conversation. 
With exaggerated movements, swallowing a sly smile, she stacked her plates exactly where they needed to go. “No one has to tell me how to do my job.”

“
Crawler,” Julie teased. She was on the bench behind them tallying some of the night’s receipts.

Brooke sensed
Julie come up behind her, touching her back. She swiped hair back off her face, leaving a wet greasy smudge across her cheek.

“You know we’re only joking,” Julie said, bending down
, peering into Brooke’s face. “I’m okay,” Brooke said, more for herself than Julie.

“You’re crying.”

Brooke looked over at her. “No I’m fine, really.”

“You know Dana said that since you’ve found David, the two of you have been holed up together. It’s not healthy.”

“I’ve told her we’re not together like she thinks we should be. She needs to leave us alone.” Brooke shook her head.

“Well, if you ever need to talk
–”

“Thanks Julie. I’m okay.”

Brooke smiled and dragged a rack back over to the sink, stacking it with dinner plates.

***

David

“I’m so full,”
David moaned, sprawling out on the bed, filling his stomach with air.

Brooke was busy
wiping down bench tops and washing dishes to notice.

“Check out my gut.”

He held the air in, until she caught onto his gag.

When she finally
glanced over at him she laughed. “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s going to rain.”

“How do you know?”

“I feel it in my bones. Whenever rain is on the way I ache like hell. It’s an old man
’s ache.”

“You’ve had too many broken bones.”

He rolled onto his side and took her in. “And aren’t you depressing.”

She shrugged.

When he flopped onto his back, the room swayed. He loved that feeling, like he was being rocked in a cradle. His cheeks were numb and his head was light, but he felt her sadness seeping in. If it got too much he would go for a walk and find the bottle he’d hidden.

“A
re you sick of your life?” he asked her. “You can tell me the truth.”

She squirted more detergent into the sink. He saw her jaw
tighten.

“Cleaning up at work. Cleaning up at home
,” he prodded. “Your hands look like they’ve been through a thresher.”

She lifted them up and examined them appearing
to be almost proud.

“You haven’t painted your nails since I’ve been here.”

“No nails to paint. I painted Dana’s the other day. She doesn’t wash dishes much anymore.”

“You painted Dana’s.
”

“She’s a waitress now.”

“Big woop, Brooke.” He stared up at the ceiling examining the damp spots where the paint had peeled away. “Is that your next career goal? Waiting on tables?”

Brooke
let the water out of the sink and wiped it down. She joined him on the bed, rubbing cream into her hands. “I’m looking after myself, see? I like what I do because it means I can be with you. When I’m with you I’m happy. I just want you to be happy.”

He
stretched his cast across her lap, and patted her leg.

“Are you happy?” she asked him.

“I don’t know.”

“We
still laugh sometimes.”

David
burrowed his face into her leg, too scared to speak.

“
Maybe we could laugh more. It’s strange, I see some things that I know are funny but I can’t laugh, like it’s not physically possible. And then some really tragic thing will happen or be said and I find I’m in hysterics.”

“At least you’re still laughing,” David said, knowing exactly what she meant, but all he wanted to do was
go for a long walk and top up on alcohol. “If you want I can help you get home.”

She flicked him with her finger. “Shut up with that shit, will
ya? It’s so black and white with you. If we’re happy we stay. If we’re sad we go home. Nothing in the middle.”

“What else is there?”

“I think we should do something fun together, like go out to the reef, or something.” 

***

Brooke

A party in a room at the end of the block kept her awake.
More than once, she thought she heard Dana’s girly squeals and her boyfriend, Jamie’s, drunken whooping. But Brooke had David beside her now, snoring.

He was all she’d ever need.
She had mastered lying still for long hours, so as not to disturb him. When her muscles ached or she felt the need to turn on her side, she flexed ever so slowly, shifted and then relaxed.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

David’s long even snores didn’t miss a beat.

She flexed her legs and then her arms
. “Are you ever going to leave me again?” she dared to ask.

David’s snoring stopped.

She held her breath. The beat from the party music thumped through her brain, until David’s slow snoring resumed.

Chapter Thirty Four

David

David pressed his head back against the cool glass behind his seat. He looked about the cabin at the rows of white faced passengers. He didn’t feel out of place, but he’d never had the slightest bit of motion sickness in his life. Hangovers had to feel much the same. He couldn’t remember how much he had to drink the night before. The bottle was hidden under a rock along the path to the cliff. He’d have to go back and check to see how much was left.

If
only he could remember which rock exactly.

“Don’t be sick,” David said, bringing
Brooke’s head down onto his shoulder, and smoothing her hair down the back of her head. “It’s open sea. We’re nearly there.”

“I think I’ll feel better if I hurl.”

“Don’t hurl.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll be sick.”

Brooke clasped her hand over her mouth. David dragged her
to the door, tripping over a bag. They made it outside. He held her head over a bin, feeling her shoulders and back clench with each wave of vomit. She wasn’t the first to use the bin. And with the engine fumes hanging off the back of the catamaran, his stomach couldn’t hold back either.    

***

Brooke

All it took was solid ground and a prawn
and avocado sandwich for Brooke to recover. David still looked pale even though they’d stepped off the boat a half hour ago. She nudged him. “You look wiped out.”

“I feel like shit.”

“I thought you didn’t get motion sickness.”

He gave a half smile and looked away, nodding over at the rack of wetsuits and tubs of flippers and masks. “Get yourself suited up. Make the most of the low tide.”

“Let’s go down to the underwater viewing area and watch for a bit.”

David stood and offered his hand. “Come on
, you can snorkel without me.”

He led her over to the platform.

One of the crew handed Brooke a wetsuit, while David rummaged through for a snorkel and mask. She stood there watching him, clutching it to her chest.

He peeled her t-shirt off.

“I thought we’d spend the day together.”

“I have a cast on. What makes you think I can snorkel?”

“I don’t want to go on my own,” she whined, stepping into the suit.

David helped her zip up, then picked out a pair of flippers for her. She carried them down the stairs, putting the
m on closer to the water.

She looked up at him. “Just go,” he said. “I’m the one with a broken wrist, not you.”

“We have to do this together as soon as that thing comes off.”

“Can’t wait.”

“I can keep you company,” she offered one last time. She hated the way his lip curled up when he looked at her. She hated to annoy him like that. “I’m going,” she muttered, slapping down the rest of the stairs and getting ready to slip into the ocean. As she adjusted her mask and snorkel, she turned back to him.

His eyes met hers, and for a moment she sensed his sadness and felt it overtake her.

“Go,” he said.

She pu
shed off and floated away from the pontoon, following a group of strangers’ flippered feet. As they moved away from the pontoon, the flippers disbanded from one group to pairs and threes until she was on her own. She looked back at the stairs. David had disappeared.

She
trod water for a while and pushed the dread deeper inside her.  Lying flat in the salt water, held buoyant in her wetsuit, she stuck close to the reef edge, ever watchful of the depths to her side, with visions of shark jaws surging out of the abyss. The sun was on the reef, lighting up the swaying coral, brilliantly coloured fish darting in and out. Aware of the time it took for mother earth to create such an ocean dream, she was careful not to touch anything. If she lay still, some of the cheekiest fish came and nibbled at her fingers. It was another world. A place where she could just be, live in the moment, forget.

She broke the surface,
turning around. The rope had gone. People were way behind her. She was alone. Shark bait. Her breath quickened and she began to choke on the water. Flipping onto her back she turned towards the pontoon, kicking. Long slow breaths filled her lungs, until she began to relax. She flipped over and kicked back in among the people, pointing, enjoying each other, taking underwater photos. At the stairs she unzipped her wetsuit and discarded her flippers. It was enough time apart for her. She went in search of David.

***

David

Three scuba divers, floated in front of the glass in front of him, feeding a groper. They waved at him. He felt like raising the middle finger of his good hand to them
, but Brooke slipped into the seat beside him. She wrapped wet arms around him, burying her face into his neck. Tiny convulsions jarred her body.

“What’s wrong?” he
asked, gently.

“
I don’t like being away from you.”

“You go to work every day and leave me, no worries at all.
”

“Every day I wonder if you’re going to be there when I get back.”

The mobile in his pocket vibrated between them. They jerked apart. He looked at her, thinking it was hers.

“Your mobile never rings
,” she said.

He pulled it out and looked down at the lit up screen. He recognised Gloria’s number.

“It looks different to the one you showed me in the hospital.”

He
chewed on his lip, pretending to examine the mobile.

“You better answer it. It could be your mother. She might need you.”

As though his thumb had a mind of its own, he pressed the off button hard. He shoved it back into his pocket.

“It could have been your mother.”

“It wasn’t Mum.”

“No one else would ring you.”

***

Brooke

They feasted on prawns on the upper deck. David peeled and Brooke ate them. “Are you hiding something from me, David?”

“Nope.”

“Did you meet a girl when we were apart?”

“Nope.”

“Because if you did, I’d be okay. If you want a girlfriend, I mean, go for it.” She heard herself say the words but knew she didn’t mean it. The very thought of him having someone else to talk to made her sick.

“Have another prawn,” he said, waving it in front of her face
. “You know you want to.”

She snatched it
from him. “If it makes you feel any better, I met a guy who liked me at that youth shelter I was at.”

David raised his eyebrows at her.

“You never asked me about who I met and I never asked you about who you met. I guess we just always assume we don’t meet anyone. It’s always just us two. But for that time we were apart, we would have had to meet other people. I mean, I’m meeting people all the time, washing dishes. Waitresses and kitchen hands.”

“You’re blabbering,” David said,
ripping the legs off the prawn.

“He kissed me. And I hated it. His name was Tyler. There was a weird moment where he did remind me of you. I didn’t kiss him back.” Brooke pushed her plate aside, no longer hungry.
She watched David peel a pile of prawns, making a prawn and avocado roll. “So if you have met a girl, I’m okay.”

David’s eyes skipped to an exit then back at her. It was subtle.

“Are you mad?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“I want you to feel you can be honest with me.”

His lips pressed together and he scrunched up a napkin.

“Well…”

“Well, don’t say things like it
’s okay for me to have a girlfriend and that you will stick around and watch it.”

“I would leave if you wanted me to.”

He chewed a few times, swallowing. He was taking her in. And she thought the truth was on its way.

“I just think you should think more of yourself than that. Don’t ever let a guy treat you like that.”

She thought of Tyler. She was back in the bathroom. She felt the pressure of his hand on hers. 

***

David

That night,
David slipped from the bed, and took his phone from the pocket of the shorts left hanging over a chair. He crept down the balcony, hating the way every step reverberated up and down the staff quarters.

He found a quiet spot out in the tropical gardens, away from ear shot. The night was so still, the world around him looked like a painted picture. He dared to return the call he’d received that day.

When he heard Gloria’s voice, he felt a heat rise to his cheeks, embarrassment, shame, fear, lust? He couldn’t tell. “Hey.”

Party music pumped at her end. “You hung up on me,” she replied. The music subsided, she must’ve moved to another room.

“Is he with you?”

“Chas?”

“Is he there?”

“Absolutely. We’re on the boat. We’re sleeping on it then going out sailing for a few days.
I was just ringing to tell you that, in case you want to come to the mainland. You’d be safe.”

“Brooke thinks you’re my girlfriend.”

“Brooke knows about me?”

“No, she thinks I have a girlfriend. When you called she asked.”

“Haven’t you made moves on her yet?”

“It’s not like that with us.”

“Bullshit. When you’re with her do you even consider being with anyone else?”

He didn’t know what to say.

“You don’t do you?”

“There’s never really been anyone that I’ve noticed
, except us that one night. But we were so pissed.”

“What would
Brooke say if she knew?”

“I’d never tell her.”

“Has she been with anyone when you were apart?”

“
A guy kissed her. She says she hated it,” but then he thought about it, “I don’t think she would do anything.”

“Just go
back to her. Don’t go to your bed. Climb into hers. Hold her hand and give her a nice soft kiss. But don’t say anything.”

“We sleep in the same bed.”

“Aargh. I can’t believe you haven’t done it already. Just don’t stick your tongue in first time.”

David laughed.

“Someone’s coming.” She hung up.

David sat out there longer. Too scared to go back inside, he headed up the path to the cliff top in search of his vodka stash. After a few swigs, he began to wonder about what he really had to offer Brooke. Maybe, she liked that guy. After all, she had kissed him. His name was Tyler. “Tyler,” he said aloud. Tyler, he imagined her saying his name.

***

Brooke

A
strange silence hung in the night air. The bed was still warm beside her. She heard him at the end of the balcony. It took everything she had not to follow him. He had a secret. Maybe it was best for her not to think too much about it. Maybe he didn’t want her to know because he knew it would hurt her. She didn’t think she could stomach seeing him with a girl. But she couldn’t handle the distance that was growing between them every day.

She couldn’t sleep. She lay alone, listening for him.

It was a while before she heard him stumble through the door, swearing. Out of half open eyes she watched him meander around the room swaying. He hopped out of his jeans, bumping into furniture and finally falling down into bed beside her. She nestled into him, inhaling for any tell-tale scent. His skin smelt different. A sickly kind of medicinal scent emanated from him. She thought she knew what it was. But it was better than smelling the leftovers of a girl.