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Authors: Tricia Stringer

BOOK: Riverboat Point
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He went back to the shed.

“Pump's stuffed, mate,” he said. “You'll need a new one.”

“Thought so.”

Gnasher put two mugs of black tea on the table and sat down.

Ethan followed suit.

“A trip to town, or would you like me to order one for you?”

“Na, thanks mate. I need to do a couple of jobs. Looks like I'll be going in sooner than I thought, that's all.”

“I reckon you should clean up first or Faye won't let you in her shop.”

“You don't think she'll like my brand of aftershave?”

“You're welcome to use my shower.”

“You're a good bloke for a grease monkey.”

They lapsed into silence, the tea still too hot to drink.

“You been getting a few bunnies?” Ethan nodded towards the skins.

“I was getting low on meat.”

“My mother used to fricassee it. Can't say I'm that keen on it.”

“Nothing like fried rabbit,” Gnasher said. “I was raised on it.”

They both took slurps of tea.

“I'd have baked a cake if I'd known you were coming,” Gnasher said. “You after something?”

“Just a social call. Haven't seen you for a while.”

“Here I am.”

“You watch the game last night?” Ethan asked.

“No.” Gnasher got up and walked to the edge of the concrete, looking out across the cleared land towards the bush.

“You missed a good one. Cats won but only by a point. It could have gone either way right down to the last few seconds.”

“You didn't bring your dog.”

Gnasher came back to the table. His hand trembled as he lifted his mug to his mouth.

“Already took him for a walk this morning.” Truth was Ethan didn't like Jasper sniffing about on Gnasher's land. He had all kinds of snares set up from trip-wires to rabbit traps not too far from the track.

Gnasher's eyes darkened.

“I wouldn't do him any harm.”

“I know that,” Ethan said. “But he's still young. Not always well mannered. Wouldn't want him lifting a leg in your kitchen again.”

Gnasher's frown turned to a smile.

“Young fellas, you never know what they might get up to.”

Ethan stood up and drained the last of his cup.

“You good to go?” he said. “Bring your washing as well if you like. Might be a while before you get your new pump.”

Gnasher picked up a plastic washing basket.

“Good idea,” he said. “I'm down to my last pair of jocks.”

Gnasher ended up staying a couple of hours. Ethan made lunch which they ate out on the deck, Gnasher in a pair of boxers while the rest of his clothes dried. He'd shaved, which along with his number two haircut, gave him a tidy appearance.

“This is good, thanks,” Gnasher said and he took another mouthful of soup.

“Just leftover chicken and veg.”

Ethan hadn't known what to feed the old bloke. If he'd been crook he may not have had any alcohol for a day or so which would explain the shakes. His stomach was probably in need of something wholesome. Ethan always enjoyed soup when he was getting over a wog. He'd dug around in his freezer and found a couple of serves.

“That bloke next door got himself a woman?” Gnasher nodded in the direction of Jaxon's shack.

“His sister. She's taking care of the place while Jaxon's away.”

“Those bloody tourist boats. I thought they'd be history by now.”

Gnasher gripped his hands together tightly and pressed them to the table. Below, Ethan could see the old bloke's feet tapping on the deck.

“I bought my block because it was isolated and on a dead-end road.”

“I wasn't keen either but it hasn't been too bad. They come, get on the houseboat and go off on the river for several days. Not too much disruption to the peace.”

“So this woman any good?”

Gnasher ate some more soup. Ethan looked over his shoulder. Through a gap in the trees he could see Savannah on the sundeck of the boat that must have come in while he'd been over the road.

“Savannah's a hard worker.”

“Yeah, but is she a looker?”

Ethan turned back to his soup.

“Haven't paid much attention. She seems nice.”

“Seems nice?” Gnasher thumped the table. “You are alive, aren't you, Dig? Even from this distance with my eyes I can see she's got a decent pair of knockers.”

Ethan took another mouthful of soup. There were lots of things he and Gnasher had talked about but women wasn't one of them.

“Could be handy having her right next door. Specially if she's only here for the short term. A holiday fling with no complications.”

“Shut up, Gnasher.”

Jasper rose to his feet. Ethan glared at the old man. His gutter talk made Savannah sound like a tramp. She wasn't like that.

Gnasher held Ethan's glare then suddenly his face crinkled in a smile and he winked. He stood up.

“Thanks for your hospitality, mate. Beautiful day. I reckon my clothes will be dry by now.”

Ethan felt ashamed of his outburst. What did it matter what Gnasher said about Savannah? She couldn't hear him and Ethan didn't care. That's what he told himself.

“You're welcome anytime, mate,” Ethan said. “If you want to use the laundry or the bathroom till you get your pump, go for it. If I'm not here I'll leave the place open.”

“You're a good bloke,” Gnasher said. He gripped Ethan's hand in a firm shake. “Be seein' ya.”

Ethan saw Gnasher out the door and watched as he plodded down the steps to the clothes line. Sometimes he felt sad after spending time with Gnasher and today was one of those times. It bothered Ethan that the old Viet vet lived such an isolated existence and drank so much. Ethan knew he couldn't change Gnasher's lifestyle. It was more that he feared he was seeing himself in the future. Ethan lived an isolated life too. He wasn't close to his family, except for Blake. He'd fought in a war that wasn't well supported by the Australian public and there were times when the demons drove him to drink too much.

He went back to his kitchen to start his curry. He enjoyed cooking. He was glad Savannah had accepted his invitation. Once the curry was cooking he'd head over to give her a hand. The thought of it lifted his sombre mood.

CHAPTER
22

Ethan went down to
Tawarri
and stepped on board.

“Hello?” he called.

There was no answer. He stuck his head inside the living area of the boat. A strong smell of disinfectant greeted him. He called again. Still no answer from Savannah. He walked the full way round the outside and climbed a few of the steps to check the sun-deck. She was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she'd finished and was waiting for him up at the house.

He retraced his steps and followed the path until he reached the sliding door. Music was playing and through the glass he could see Savannah. She had her back to him and she was exercising in time to the music. He watched her a moment. Her body moved in perfect symmetry. No sign of the stiffness she sometimes had when she walked. He tapped on the glass. She spun around and slid open the door.

“How's the clean-up going?” he asked.

“Terrible,” she said. She ran her fingers through her wet hair. “I had to have a shower. The boat was filthy. I can't believe people could leave it in such a state.”

“Really? Didn't they clean it?”

Savannah was wearing a singlet top. It was hard for him to keep his gaze away from the great shape of her breasts under the tightly stretched fabric.

“Most of it wasn't too bad I suppose but one bathroom was putrid.” She shuddered. “Wall-to-wall poop and vomit. It makes me gag just to think about it.” She put her hands to her nose. “I wore gloves but I don't feel as if I'll ever get rid of the smell.”

“Can't smell anything from here,” Ethan said with a grin. “I stuck my head in the front room of the boat. It smelled fresh to me.”

“I've used a whole bottle of disinfectant. That smarmy Fred,” Savannah growled and her chest swelled.

“Charge him a cleaning fee.” Ethan tried to keep his gaze on her face.

“I would if I thought I had any chance of getting it. He only gave me a small amount of the bond and some of that will cover the fuel cost. It's just lucky the boat's Jaxon's. He'll have to take the loss.”

“I guess it's a learning curve.”

“Learning curve isn't what I'd call it.”

Savannah planted her hands on her hips. The fabric stretched even tighter across her breasts.

“I've written a big note to Jaxon. Fred won't ever be allowed to book with J&S Houseboats again. Well, not if I've got anything to do with it.”

Ethan dragged his gaze away to the verandah.

“I'll go and shift the fuel truck,” he said.

“You didn't bring Jasper?”

He looked back at her, keeping his gaze locked to hers.

“Thought he might get in the way.”

“Oh, okay. I don't mind if he comes over here.”

“He's okay. He's got the whole yard to roam in. Do you know where the keys are?”

“Keys?”

“For the fuel truck.”

“Oh, yes. They're in the cupboard where Jaxon keeps all his keys. I'll get them.”

She hurried off to a side room. Ethan turned his back on the shack and looked at the river. He took slow steady breaths. There was something about Savannah. She was getting under his skin. And that exercise outfit pushed buttons he wasn't sure he wanted pushed.

“Here you are.”

He turned back. She was holding out a set of keys.

“The key for the septic tank truck is on there as well.”

“Thanks.”

“I'll be right with you.”

Ethan moved away quickly. He was sure his thoughts were written all over his face.

By the time he'd shifted the truck closer to the houseboat she was waiting for him. She'd changed into jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. Her hair fluffed around her face giving her a softer look than when she spiked it. He couldn't help but like what he saw.

He jumped down from the truck almost on top of her. She smelt good too.

“How am I ever going to drive that?” she said.

“I can teach you.”

“Don't I need a licence?”

“This is private property. You can do what you like.”

“I'm still not sure I can drive that,” she said waving a hand towards the truck.

“You can drive a manual car. It's not too much different.”

“How did you know my car's a man …?” Her puzzled expression changed to a smile. “Of course. I'd forgotten you drove Belinda home in my car. Thanks for doing that.”

“No probs.” Ethan pulled on the heavy-duty gloves and unhooked the hose. “Let's see how much fuel Fred and his crew used.”

“Not much according to Fred.”

The gauge clicked over and over in a constant rhythm for quite some time. He could see Savannah could barely keep her anger contained by the time he'd finished filling the tanks.

“That's way more than he said. Bloody Fred. The money he left won't cover that and the extra cleaning and the damage.”

“What damage?”

The boat appeared in good shape from the brief look Ethan had given it.

“The vomit bathroom has had the toilet roll holder pulled from the wall.”

“I'll take a look at it.”

“Would you? I've no idea how to fix it but it can't stay how it is with a gaping hole in the wall. I was thinking I'd have to patch it with paper and tape.”

“That might be all I can do.” He grinned at her and they went on board.

“It will require a carpenter,” Ethan said. He stood up from his squatting position by the hole. “Might have to be paper and tape until then. Let's move on to the septic pumping, shall we?”

She clamped her lips together and followed him.

Ethan had to give her credit. She wasn't afraid to give things a go even though she often had no idea which way was up. While the septic was pumping out they moved on to swap the gas bottles. Ethan vaguely recalled Jaxon rolling them down the hill from the cage by his shed where they were stored but how had he got them to the back of the houseboat? Ethan had never taken any notice.

He stood next to Savannah on the bank with the gas bottle between them. They both stared at the boat. The bottles that needed swapping were at the back and the side decks were narrow.

“Would he have used the little boat?” Savannah asked.

“Maybe, but then you've still got to get it out of that and up onto the deck.”

Ethan looked at the gas bottle. It should float by itself. All they would have to do was steer it.

“We can float it along the side of the houseboat then pull it up onto the back,” he said. “It'd be easier than trying to manage it in the tinnie. We just need some rope.”

“Plenty in Jaxon's shed.”

He followed her to the shed and selected a rope that would do the job. Once he'd secured the bottle, he pushed it out into the water while Savannah held the two ends from the side deck of the houseboat. When the bottle was afloat he joined her on the boat and they edged it all the way to the back of the boat. He hauled it up onto the swim deck and together they manoeuvred it into place. Then it was just a matter of doing the reverse procedure with the empty bottle.

By the time they'd finished Ethan noticed Savannah was favouring her left leg. There was no way she could do this by herself. She was going to need help and Ethan had a busy week coming up with the shearing. He was beginning to wonder if Jaxon had really thought his plans through properly. Even without the physical problem that was giving her bother from time to time, she wouldn't have been able to swap the gas bottles alone.

“I can manage now,” Savannah said when Ethan had parked the trucks back in their places. “Although I'm not sure what happens with that septic truck. I think someone comes out to empty it if I call them. I'll have to read Jaxon's notes again. There's so much to remember. I really appreciate your help. I don't know how anyone can do all that on their own.” She had a puzzled look on her face. “How did Jaxon manage it?”

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