Sharp Turn - Marianne Delacourt [28]
Cass had the window down. She’d taken the band out of her hair and it flew around her face, making me think of Fridge with his nose into the breeze.
I put up with the buffeting wind because it made it hard to talk and I was beat. All I could think of was having my place back to myself.
And sleeping.
Wal was waiting for us when we got back to the flat, sitting on the couch, his backpack at his feet. I sniffed the air. At least he hadn’t been smoking, and the flat was even more spotless than yesterday. I’d never find anything!
Cass crawled onto the couch next to him and closed her eyes. I badly wanted to do the same but Wal had news.
‘Boss, I got a place to go to. Wondering if you could drop me there.’
‘Oh?’ I tried not to sound too pleased. ‘Where?’
‘Liv’s got a friend who needs a caretaker for his building. It’s down on the highway on the corner of Glyde Street.’
Bless you, Liv!
Glyde Street was right near my gym. ‘No problem,’ I said. ‘Just give me a tick to change.’
I dived behind the screen and switched out of my oil-spattered clothes into shorts and a gym top. Then I grabbed a pair of odd socks and my sneakers, and Wal and I were out the door.
‘I’ll bring dinner home,’ I called out to Cass as I left.
The flat was above an antiques shop on the highway. Wal sent Liv a text to say we were on our way and when we got there she was waiting outside.
‘Liv!’ I enveloped her in a bear-sized hug and whispered ‘Thank you’ in her ear.
My dear eccentric aunt looked unbelievable in white bootleg jeans and a layered but fitted top that showed off her still-flat stomach. Her heels were teetering high and see-through with a gold trim, her hair was piled high and secured loosely with gold combs. She looked like an advertisement for brunch on the Mediterranean. As usual, Wal’s eyes popped.
I totally got Wal’s attraction for Liv. I mean, she was gorgeous and smart as well as elegantly offbeat.
I totally did not get her attraction to Wal.
Liv had left a string of broken hearts behind her over the years, including some of Australia’s most successful businessmen. It just didn’t make sense. I guess there’s no accounting for taste – or common interests for that matter. They both loved heavy metal music and Monopoly (when Wal didn’t fall asleep).
I thought about Edouardo and me: we both dug Indian food and Flaming Drambuies. Tozzi and I were both basketball and car addicts. Common interests tended to level the romantic playing field. I was secretly pleased Liv had someone to fuss over – other than me.
She got the key from the shop assistant and we went up the stairs at the back of the building. The key opened a large open-plan room with a sink and kitchenette in one corner, a big old couch in the centre, and a once splendid, now tarnished brass double bed over near the window.
‘Shit,’ said Wal with appreciation.
‘Where’s the toilet?’ I asked.
‘Downstairs. So is the shower. Not ideal,’ said Liv. ‘I’ve brought you some food, Wallace, and some old linen I had lying around in the cupboard.’
Wal flushed and licked his lips as if he was thinking something unseemly. I took that as my cue to leave them to it.
Ten minutes later I was at my gym, chit-chatting with Craigo, my muscled-up fitness instructor, in his office. Craigo and I had become pretty friendly since winning a triathlon together. He was already talking about entering another one.
Rather Be Dead? was a small gym with a pretty select clientele. JoBob had given me a membership in the hope that I might meet someone ‘suitable’ there. I’d kept the membership up because it kept me fit-ish, Craigo was a doll – and they sold the best muesli slice and fresh orange juice around. As it turned out, the place was useful for more than just muesli slice and fitness. I’d seen a photo on the noticeboard here which had linked clues together for me in a previous job, allowing me to blackmail Johnny Viaspa into leaving Nick Tozzi and me alone.
Being a small establishment, you sometimes had to wait for the equipment, but the waiting itself was pretty cool given the excellent