Without You I Have Nothing (17 page)

BOOK: Without You I Have Nothing
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Ruth giggled. “Your
eyes said so much more than the words when you looked across at Jennifer and
said 'a tasty morsel'. Everyone hated you, Peter. Heavens, as the hunchback
approached Jennifer I shouted louder than the rest. You looked positively
revolting. What a villain you are!”

“When Jennifer bit
you and you reeled away bleeding so profusely from the mouth I think I cheered
louder than anyone,” Karen enthused.

Jennifer glared at
Peter, adding her piece. “I suppose you didn’t have to act all that much. No
wonder you got the part. Type casting I suppose.”

Peter tried to break
the tension between them.

“If I was good, it
was only because you were perfect. You made it so easy. Jennifer, any time you
want to...”

It was useless
continuing - she had walked away to join another group where her normal
vivacity and liveliness surfaced. The others didn’t notice her departure as
they discussed the play and accepted more cast members into the conversation.

Peter went nowhere
for the rest of the weekend. Only his music drew him. Nothing else could wipe
Jennifer from his soul. Everywhere he looked, he could see her and he could
smell her perfume. She had permeated every corner of his life.

On Monday, he was
glad to work - the noise, dust and smell of welding and spray painting helped
clear his mind. Every day was busy and he didn’t notice the time passing.

Week followed week. It
was work only that kept Peter sane - work and music - with seemingly endless
trips to Bathurst delivering vehicles for the latest contract, followed by more
work. Peter drove himself hard.

“Where have you
been?”  Bob called in to inspect the repairs on a customer’s car. He was
worried. “You haven’t been in for a drink for weeks since the play and you’ve
not been to tennis either. We’ve all missed you.”

He laughed at his own
joke as he continued.

“Now tell me you’ve
been working.”

“I have been.” 
Emotionless, Peter was insistent as the words flowed easily.

“There’s wages to pay
and I’ve just put on two young female apprentices and you keep well clear of
them. They are mere children.”

Peter’s stance warned
Bob that his behavior around the new apprentices would need to be exemplary. “That’s
all I seem to do now - work.”

“You missed out on
some fun.”  Bob’s eyes twinkled as he outlined the past weekend’s doings. “Are
you coming this Friday?  Everyone wants to see if you're still alive.”

“Everyone?”  Peter’s
hopes rose.

“Ted, Karen, Ruth. The
new group.”

“Have you seen
Jennifer?”

“The Ice Maiden?”  He
guffawed. “You should have seen that 'Ice' melt when I...”  Pausing, he stared
into Peter’s face trying to judge his reaction.

“You did what?” 
Peter almost shrieked his mind whirling in confusion. ‘No, no not Jennifer, not
that.’  The idea burnt into his soul and he could feel his hatred and anger
beginning to control him.

“Well,” for the first
time Bob seemed at a loss for words, “I accidentally mentioned our bet.”

Peter looked shocked
but at the same time, he heaved a sigh of relief.

“She said nothing,
but I thought she was going to explode. I’ve never seen such anger in a woman. That
is one woman I’d like to stir. She’d be a tigress if...”

“Lay off,” Peter was
furious. Talking this way of Jennifer was more than he could stand.

“Keep that for Ted. He
loves to hear the hows, the whens and the whys.”  Peter’s voice rose to a shout.
“I'm not interested”

“Steady on.”  Bob
completely misconstrued Peter’s outrage. “You’ve been working too hard. Give it
away.”

He began organizing
Peter’s life. “If you're not at the bar on Friday night, Ted and I’ll come to
drag you off - paint, grease, overalls and all.”

Bob knew he was
pushing Peter’s limits. He watched to see if Peter would accept his
organization and, hearing nothing but ominous silence, he decided he’d better
change the topic before something dangerous happened.

“Hey, there’s Mrs.
Williams. She’s just what the doctor ordered. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Preening himself, he
dashed out. “See you Friday.”

Peter could only
smirk as he watched.

Seeing Bob
approaching, Susie turned away. Undeterred, he took her arm but she quickly
snatched herself out of his grasp. Bob could see his charm was having no effect.
Repeatedly she shook her head until tiring of his overtures she left.

“Win some, lose
some.”  Bob started his car. “Don’t know what’s got into her. Hubbie must be
home.”

Peter smiled - he
wasn’t going to tell Bob the facts.

“Be there Friday
night.”

The bar was just as
noisy, smoky and dim as usual. Nothing had changed.

“Welcome back,
stranger.”  Ted slapped Peter’s back and ordered another round of drinks. “Help
me carry these.”

Six drinks - one
tomato juice - should have made Peter suspicious. Jennifer had been drinking
tomato juice that first night.

Like a pet poodle on
a leash, Peter followed mindlessly to the furthest table in the lounge.

“Where have you
been?”  Ruth seemed politely interested.

“You're as pale as
ghost,” Karen shrieked in that affected, little girlish voice she often assumed.
“Have you been locked up in a cave?”

Then she turned to
Bob to commandeer his attention.

Jennifer said nothing.
She stared through Peter as if he didn’t exist.

It hurt. Holding her
in his arms waltzing to Strauss had been heaven. This was hell.

“Hello,” Jennifer’s
voice was cold and emotionless.

There was nothing to
keep Peter here in the group. His eyes moistened and he realized he was on the
point of breaking. It would take all his self-control to remain, self-control
he did not have.

“Thanks for the beer,
Ted. I owe you one.”  Peter threw the beer down his throat, turned on his heels
and made his way towards the exit, well aware of the puzzled looks from both
Bob and Ted.

“What the hell do you
think you're doing?”  Bob caught Peter at the door and grabbing his shoulder,
wheeled him around to stand face-to-face. “We’ve drunk together for years and
you’ve never done that with a beer before.”

Hands on hips he
cornered Peter against the doorway. “What the hell’s got into you?”  Bob was
furious.

“You!  That’s bloody
what.”  This time Bob would not misconstrue Peter’s bitterness. “You and your
bloody great mouth.”

“What the hell are
you talking about?”  Bob really did not know.

“You had to scream to
the world about our bet.”  Peter’s hatred made Bob wince. “I ought to...” 
Peter closed his fist but customers bursting through the door separated them.

Bob bounced back.

“I'm sorry I opened
my mouth to Jennifer but let’s not fight over her. We’ve been friends too
long.”

Pausing he waited but
Peter said nothing. “I'm sorry for stepping out of line. I only asked her if
the pair of you had a date. She seemed reluctant to discuss you although she
had pictures of you spread all over her desk. Strange that.”

His eyes wandered to
the ceiling as if seeking an answer there. “She didn’t want to talk at all so I
merely said 'Good, then Peter’s lost his bet' and left.

“Ted told me she rang
him, must have got his number from Ruth. Before he knew it, she had the facts
from him. Sorry. Neither of us meant to hurt you.”

Peter crumpled, all
the fire gone. Just an empty shell remained.

“Come on back.”  With
a kindly gesture, Bob took his friend’s arm and led Peter back to the bar. “A
stiff whiskey’s what you need.”

Patiently, he talked
quietly as Peter downed not one, not two but three whiskeys in quick
succession.

Peter’s knees knocked.
Those drinks raced to his brain.

The walk back to Jennifer
seemed endless and Peter wanted it to last so that his fuddled brain could
clear. He would need all his faculties if he were to get through the next few
minutes.

“You’ve brought him
back. Goody.”  Karen clapped her hands like the silly little school girl she
was. “Bob, you scattered so many chairs racing after Peter the barman thought
there was a brawl.”

She began to laugh,
“I thought Peter was a great grizzly bear but you bounced out like a fighting
koala.”

Even Peter laughed
but he knew his laugh didn’t sound right.

“What did you do to
him, Bob?  You’ve only been gone five minutes but by Peter’s look he’s had his
head in a brewer’s vat.”  Ted looked concerned.

Peter knew that he
had difficulty focusing but he didn’t realize the others knew. Ruth’s stare
told him those whiskeys had been just what he didn’t need. Slumped over the
table, his chin propped in his hands, Peter was beyond caring how Jennifer saw
all this.

Through a haze, Peter
could hear Ted’s voice coming from the far end of a tunnel.

“What did you do,
Bob?  He’s almost out cold.”

“I gave him a couple
of whiskeys but he insisted on having a third.”  Bob was defensive. “He needed
them. He’s been working so much and he seemed so down...”

“You fool. You bloody
great fool!”  Ted’s retort cut into Peter’s brain.

“You know he can’t
drink. Two beers and he’s drunk, three and he’s sick. Come on, girls, we’d
better get him out of here. Christ - sorry girls - he’s had a bad time that he,
of all people, really doesn’t deserve.”

Ted was worried. “Come
on, Bob, help. Don’t just stand there like a bloody great, useless, shag on a
rock.”

They dragged Peter to
his feet. That much he knew. He was almost sober enough to hear the girls
organizing vehicles and to feel hands searching his pocket for keys.

“At least we’ll find
his car. Security always parks it in the same place.”  Ted was quietly
confident.

“You can drive
Peter’s car, Jennifer. I’ll take Peter. Bob, take the girls and follow me.”

“No!”  That voice cut
through Peter’s alcoholic fumes. “Put Peter with me.”

“You’ll never manage
him.”  Only Bob knew how difficult Peter had been.

“Oh, I’ll manage.” 
Jennifer’s voice had a tone that brooked no argument. “You others go on as
you’d planned.”

She laughed. “I was
having an early night so this drunkard hasn’t caused me to change my plans.”

Peter closed his eyes
and allowed himself to drift. The oncoming headlights were far too bright. The
movement of the car and the engine’s hum lulled him to sleep.

“Can you move?” 
Jennifer was tugging at his sleeve.

A groan was all the
answer Peter could muster. He felt two security guards manhandling him to the
lift.

“We’ve never seen Mr.
O'Brien in such a state in all the years we’ve been here. What happened to him,
Miss?  Do you need any further help?”

Jennifer’s comment as
she stood Peter in the lift cut into Peter’s brain, sounded just as his wife
should sound. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t need help and he’ll rue the day he got
like this.”

“Come on. I’ll make a
coffee for you.”

He felt an arm drag
him onto the sofa and heard sliding sounds as she opened the windows allowing
the fresh breeze to help clear the fog.

“Jennifer...”

“Ssh!  Coffee is what
you need.”

Hot sweet coffee
scalded his tongue. Slowly his brain began to clear - almost. More and more
coffee followed until he almost drowned in the chocolaty liquid.

“Feeling better?” 
Jennifer leant across the table, her face concerned. She was no heartless,
unfeeling Ice Maiden.

“I’ll be better in a
moment. Sorry I was so much trouble. I must’ve spoiled your date,” Peter could not
stop torturing himself.

“Stop being silly. Just
this once, stop being silly.”

BOOK: Without You I Have Nothing
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ads

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