Read Distraction: The Distraction Trilogy #1 Online
Authors: A. E. Murphy
“It always goes wrong,” I mutter so she can’t hear, but then I speak words that she can. “Thank you, but right now, with the constant mood I’m in, it will definitely go wrong.” I leave her in the staffroom and make a beeline for my room. So much work to do and there just aren’t enough hours in the day.
When the lunch bell rings, I drive straight to the hospital, only stopping to pick up a decent lunch from Crystal’s coffee shop for my mum. It seems my dad has the same idea, as he’s already here when I arrive and a tray of food and fresh orange is spread along the table that hovers over my mum’s lap.
“My boys spoil me,” Mum says, her voice raspy as she taps my cheek. “I bet Isaac remembered my brownie.”
“I was in a rush,” Dad grumbles, his lips twitching with a smile, but that soon disappears when I reveal the sandwiches and the brownies. “Well… you’re not totally useless.”
Mum slaps his arm, but we both know he’s kidding with only a slight amount of bitterness.
“So according to school gossip, our Isaac has a new love interest.”
Not him too!
“Who?” My mum’s face brightens as mine darkens.
“Katherine Hart.”
“Really?” I scoff. “You’re going to believe the words of a bunch of bored school kids?”
My mum lets out a breath of relief. “I can’t stand that woman. Too materialistic.”
“This I agree with.” My dad nods slowly, seeming to think on it for a moment. “It could be worse. He could be dating Shauna Sharp.”
Who?
“Oh god no. She’s vile.” The tone in Mum’s voice is definitely one of disgust. So full of disgust, I’m surprised she hasn’t mimicked being sick with her fingers in her mouth. “You’ll find a nice lady when the time is right. Until then, stay away from my book club ladies.”
Book club? “Duly noted.” She’s in a book club?
Time passes and eventually I leave to finish up my day of work. I’m hoping above all else that mum is released tomorrow. She has no visible marks, but her eyes hold a glassy gaze that shows her dizziness and slight disorientation. What she needs now is rest in her own home.
It’s shocking how much a person can change in just a few years. My dad has gotten heavier, yet my mum has become visibly frailer.
I’m poring over the text books spread out across my desk when I hear a knock at the door.
I really need to install a peep hole. I hate not knowing who’s on the other side.
When I open the door, I’m shocked to see the young, red haired Eloise Blackburn standing with a large basket in her arms. I notice the black bow tied to the handle as my eyes scan her from head to toe.
What the fuck is she doing here? Is she trying to get me put under investigation?
“I’m really sorry to bother you.” She doesn’t look nervous. The way she’s holding herself certainly shows her confidence, but her voice betrays her by trembling slightly towards the end. “My dad evicted your neighbour today. He wanted to give you this himself.” She shakes the large hamper slightly, causing the clear plastic that shields it to crackle. “But you weren’t home. Mum was supposed to bring it but she’s always doing something at the moment.” A shadow flickers across her eyes, showing an emotion I don’t have time to place as it only lasts a fraction of a second.
“Right.” I reach out and take the hamper by the handle, not bothering to look inside. “Well… thank you for bringing it to me and tell your parents thank you for the unnecessary gift.” Which is quite heavy.
“Sure.” She smiles brightly. “Take care, Mr Price.”
“You too, Eloise.” She walks away before I close the door and I find myself watching her move down the hallway until the security door that blocks the ground floor flats to the lobby closes behind her. Sweet girl.
The second I finish marking the day’s work, I start researching stair lifts. The last thing my mum wants is to be classed as handicapped, but my dad wants her to conserve her energy and she won’t sell the house so they can invest in a bungalow. A stair lift is the next best thing. The problem is they aren’t cheap and there isn’t anywhere in the immediate area that sells and installs them. I know there are companies that travel far and wide to install, but I wanted something closer so if anything goes wrong with it, they’ll be here within six hours rather than a four day wait.
After forty minutes of figuring out the prices of everything somebody who isn’t physically able needs around the house, I’m stressed out to my limit and ready to give up. At this point it’s probably best that I take a break and do some shopping.
Trying to think on an empty stomach and no coffee just doesn’t work for me. I need to top up my morning dose, but don’t have anything in my cupboards. That hamper I received might have something, but I need to get out of the house. I will explore it later.
“Stupid, dumb, piece of shit arse car!” I exclaim and kick the wheel, instantly regretting my action when a sharp pain shoots up my shin. “What is wrong with you?”
It’s a very expensive BMW. They just don’t break down as you’re driving down a road two miles under the speed limit.
Well, they aren’t supposed to anyway.
Unfortunately I don’t know crap about cars and I’ll be waiting on the emergency breakdown service, aka my dad, for another hour minimum. I shouldn’t have gone around the edge of town to get home, but I like the drive. It’s so pretty with the lavender fields and pretty trees surrounding them. It’s a forty five minute walk home, something I’m not risking in my kitten heels. My feet will hurt and a car is bound to drive by sooner or later, although the three that have didn’t stop.
Arseholes.
The sun is starting to set and it’s getting a little bit nippy. I turn on my lights and sit on the bonnet, with my phone in hand and my jacket hanging loosely from my shoulders. I would wait in the car, but another car could drive by at any moment and if I don’t flag them down they probably won’t stop, even though my hazard lights are flashing.
People are mean. I’d stop if I saw somebody stuck at the side of the road. Even knowing I couldn’t do anything, I’d offer them my phone or a ride or something.
I call my dad again, who reassures me that my uncle will be here soon. I don’t believe him. My uncle isn’t the most reliable man that ever walked the earth. He tends to get lost frequently… normally in a pub on his lunch break or on the way to family dinners.
This is so boring.
Another car drives by, taking my hopes for rescue with it. Bastards. What kind of person sees a young girl broken down at the side of the road and just leaves her stranded?
I lie back on my windshield and rest my arm over my head. I’ll hear a car if it comes.
“What on earth are you doing?” An angry male voice snaps me out of my half sleep. I recognise it immediately and respond, “Catching some sunshine, what does it look like?”
“It’s freezing out here.” Mr Price steps towards me as I sit upright and slide from the bonnet and onto my feet.
“Well I was hoping somebody would stop if they thought I was dead.” I smile devilishly. “I was right. You stopped. I didn’t hear you drive up.”
“Probably because you were snoring,” he comments wryly and moves to the driver’s side of my car. “What’s wrong with it?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be stranded waiting for my dad. Cars aren’t exactly my area of expertise.”
His brow quirks and his blue eyes twinkle in the dim light from the darkening night. “Do you even have an area of expertise?”
My mouth drops open; I feign offence. “Harsh, Mr P, real harsh. Besides, I’m sure I have many. I just haven’t discovered them yet.”
He halts, his hand on the door handle as his body shakes slightly with silent laughter.
I don’t get it. “What’s so funny?”
“N… nothing.” Clearing his throat, he slides into the seat and I hand him my keys. “The switch for the bonnet is somewhere in there.”
He presses something under the steering wheel and the bonnet clicks open.
Well at least now I know where that is. Not that I’ll remember.
“So, how exactly did it stop working?” He asks, climbing from the seat and moving around to the front of the car.
“Umm… it just kind of began to choke and make these weird spluttering noises and then it just slowed to a stop. Whenever I turn the key it…” He marches past me, drops back into the seat and turns the key in the ignition. The engine makes an awful noise as it fights for life but fails.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters and rests his forehead against the steering wheel.
“What? Is it bad?”
His head comes up and his face looks at me incredulously. “Are you kidding? How old are you?”
“Eighteen in, like, six months.”
“How long have you been driving?”
“Three months.” I wait for him to continue, but he still looks at me, perplexed.
“Is this even your car?”
I shake my head and shrug a little. “Me and my mum share it. My dad won’t let me have mine back. I apparently didn’t look after it properly, but in my defence I didn’t know it needed water and oil, and a few empty wrappers does not mean I was lazy with it. I was just always in a hurry…”
“It’s out of petrol.”
Blink. “Come again?”
“You didn’t fill the tank. It’s out of petrol. It’s dead because you have no petrol in it.” He sighs deeply and climbs back from the driver’s seat as my face flushes red.
“I umm… knew that and I was just testing you.” I lie, which only makes him chuckle to himself and murmur something under his breath.
“Is it diesel or petrol?”
“Petrol,” I respond, chewing on my lower lip as he locks it up and moves towards his own car.
He looks up and down the road and over to the trees, a look of indecision on his face. “I should just go and pick some up for you and bring it back, but I don’t feel that you’re safe here on your own.”
“It’s Lily Hill; it’s never unsafe.”
“That’s because most people in town don’t put themselves in situations where they’re potentially unsafe. If you’ll allow me to, I’ll take you to the petrol station. We’ll fill up a tank and bring it back.”
My lips part and a shudder rushes through me at the thought of being so close to a male teacher… in his car… in the middle of nowhere. Part of me thinks I should decline. The other part is screaming at me to just enjoy his company for a little while.
The sensible part of me wins… “That would be great.” Okay so my mouth doesn’t seem to be agreeing with my brain. “Thank you, Mr Price.”
“Get in,” he orders and I quickly catch up to him, pulling open the passenger door and buckling myself in. “Don’t touch the radio.” My hand stops midway to the buttons on the console. “I appreciate it,” he adds, smirking as I place my hand back to my lap and pull out my phone to text my dad, letting him know that I’ve been rescued. “You’re lucky I was driving this way.”
“It’s a fortunate coincidence that’s for sure. Four cars ignored me driving past. Four. That’s just mean on so many levels.”
“Hmm.” He tweaks the radio so the music is low. “I’m actually glad I got this chance to speak to you. I forgot to mention to you earlier when you showed up with a basket bigger than yourself in your arms.”
“Shoot,” I say and twist in my seat so I’m looking at his profile.
“You didn’t do the work I assigned in class. The paper you gave to me was blank, save for the first two questions, which you’d written down but hadn’t yet answered.”
Bollocks. “Yeah, I was a little umm… I… I’m sorry. I just wasn’t paying attention.”
“Are you struggling with the work?” His brows draw together and he looks at me for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. “If you are, please just say.”
“No, not at all. I love Churchill and that Muselin guy.”
“It’s Mussolini,” he corrects, his lips twitching.
“Right.” I murmur and watch his graceful movements as he changes gears and turns the corner that leads back into town. “I’ll get it done if you’ll give me the questions again. I’ve been a bit distracted lately.”
“Are things okay at home?”
The fact he seems genuinely concerned startles me. Most people in this town keep to themselves and don’t pick up on things that they should. “Things are fine. No complaints. I just meant because I’m working and all of the work I have to catch up on. It’s my fault. I’ll get back into the swing of things once the year gets going again.”
He only nods and leaves it at that. I realise he doesn’t want to talk anymore when he turns the radio up and sinks back into his chair, his body seemingly relaxed but also tense at the same time. He’s not the only one who’s perceptive. Mr Price has problems at the moment, deeper problems than I, most likely. He must be stressed because of his mum. I don’t blame him. Alzheimer’s is an awful disease and Mrs Price is an awesome lady who doesn’t deserve such an awful thing.
We make it to the petrol station in total silence and Mr Price fills up the green petrol tank that he collects from his boot. I wait for him in the car as instructed, frowning when he ignores the money I hold out for him.