it on the way
out after I hand over their drinks, they won’t suspect a thing.”
What an earth were they talking about?
“I can imagine this is going to be very
anti-climactic,” said Max.
“Probably, but what else are we meant to do
for fun around here?”
Sensing the drinks were ready to go, I slid
away and quickstepped it back to the kitchen, wondering what the hell I had
just overheard.
Something near the door? They won’t
suspect a thing?
I pushed through to the kitchen, knowing
that Adam would be right behind me as I reacquainted myself with the sink and
soap suds. Sure enough, I heard the swing of the door go and in came Adam, all
smiles and goodwill with his tray of drinks, a tray of drinks that seemed to
have an ulterior motive. What were he and Max up to?
“Drinks up, ladies.”
I peeled my way from the sink, heading to
grab my raspberry lemonade, when I managed a quick glance near the door, trying
to fix on what they had been talking about. A fire extinguisher, hanging-up
spare aprons, clipboards with shopping lists, a yellowed-looking speaker
mounted on the wall that looked like a smoke alarm. Nothing that was of any
interest, I thought, as I grabbed for my lemonade and took a deep draw from my
straw, relishing the ice-cold sweetness, and suddenly glad I hadn’t changed my
order. Who was I kidding? I loved this stuff.
“Thanks, Mr Henderson,” sing-songed Heather
as she poured a fresh glass of soda water from her jug. “Lifesaver.”
Adam saluted the room. “My mission is
complete.”
Under the guise of moving back to my sink,
I took keen notice of Adam’s next movement, which I could see in the hazy
reflection of the windowpane in front of me. I watched on intently as he walked
toward the door, whistling a joyous tune and did something that happened so
fast, I almost thought I’d imagined it. The door swung to a close and he was
gone. I finally turned around to fix my gaze on the very thing that Adam had
tapped with his elbow as he left the kitchen. The yellowed box on the wall near
the door, the one I walked toward now. What was it? I squinted, wondering why
this had me interested and then as I neared I saw the faintest little green dot
on the box, the one I was sure wasn’t there before, next to a button. Then it
dawned on me. This wasn’t some boxed speaker or smoke alarm; this was an
intercom. And Adam had turned it on.
Adam and Max’s words ran through my mind.
“Yeah, well, stand by, I’ll hit it this
time.”
“Isn’t it mounted by the door or
something?”
“It’s on the wall. I’ll hit it on the
way out after I hand over their drinks, they won’t suspect a thing.”
Oh my God! They were listening in on our
conversations.
“Ugh, thank God he’s gone,” whined Amy, as
she dumped another dish in the sink. I wanted to use sign language for her to
be quiet, to write down on a piece of paper to let everyone in on the betrayal,
to maybe even yell down the intercom and scream abuse at the nosy bastards, and
just as I was about to do one of those things, Heather called out from across
the kitchen.
“So tell us about your boyfriend, Mel, we
want all the details.”
Amy piped up, “Yes! Don’t spare us
anything.”
It was then as I stood near the door,
looking back at my captive audience—waiting for me to reveal all about my utter
lie—it was then I realised that I could be anybody I wanted to be. I could
paint this amazing picture of my life back home and just how much I had moved
on, grown up. That I wasn’t that country bumpkin pining away for the likes of
Max Henry, no siree. I was an independent woman who had my shit together, and
now I had an audience in front of me, and via long distance it seemed, I
planned to give them the most amazing version of my less-than-interesting life.
I cleared my throat and spoke up loudly, glancing to make sure the green light
was on the intercom as I began the story about my amazing make-believe
boyfriend.
Chapter
out after I hand over their drinks, they won’t suspect a thing.”
What an earth were they talking about?
“I can imagine this is going to be very
anti-climactic,” said Max.
“Probably, but what else are we meant to do
for fun around here?”
Sensing the drinks were ready to go, I slid
away and quickstepped it back to the kitchen, wondering what the hell I had
just overheard.
Something near the door? They won’t
suspect a thing?
I pushed through to the kitchen, knowing
that Adam would be right behind me as I reacquainted myself with the sink and
soap suds. Sure enough, I heard the swing of the door go and in came Adam, all
smiles and goodwill with his tray of drinks, a tray of drinks that seemed to
have an ulterior motive. What were he and Max up to?
“Drinks up, ladies.”
I peeled my way from the sink, heading to
grab my raspberry lemonade, when I managed a quick glance near the door, trying
to fix on what they had been talking about. A fire extinguisher, hanging-up
spare aprons, clipboards with shopping lists, a yellowed-looking speaker
mounted on the wall that looked like a smoke alarm. Nothing that was of any
interest, I thought, as I grabbed for my lemonade and took a deep draw from my
straw, relishing the ice-cold sweetness, and suddenly glad I hadn’t changed my
order. Who was I kidding? I loved this stuff.
“Thanks, Mr Henderson,” sing-songed Heather
as she poured a fresh glass of soda water from her jug. “Lifesaver.”
Adam saluted the room. “My mission is
complete.”
Under the guise of moving back to my sink,
I took keen notice of Adam’s next movement, which I could see in the hazy
reflection of the windowpane in front of me. I watched on intently as he walked
toward the door, whistling a joyous tune and did something that happened so
fast, I almost thought I’d imagined it. The door swung to a close and he was
gone. I finally turned around to fix my gaze on the very thing that Adam had
tapped with his elbow as he left the kitchen. The yellowed box on the wall near
the door, the one I walked toward now. What was it? I squinted, wondering why
this had me interested and then as I neared I saw the faintest little green dot
on the box, the one I was sure wasn’t there before, next to a button. Then it
dawned on me. This wasn’t some boxed speaker or smoke alarm; this was an
intercom. And Adam had turned it on.
Adam and Max’s words ran through my mind.
“Yeah, well, stand by, I’ll hit it this
time.”
“Isn’t it mounted by the door or
something?”
“It’s on the wall. I’ll hit it on the
way out after I hand over their drinks, they won’t suspect a thing.”
Oh my God! They were listening in on our
conversations.
“Ugh, thank God he’s gone,” whined Amy, as
she dumped another dish in the sink. I wanted to use sign language for her to
be quiet, to write down on a piece of paper to let everyone in on the betrayal,
to maybe even yell down the intercom and scream abuse at the nosy bastards, and
just as I was about to do one of those things, Heather called out from across
the kitchen.
“So tell us about your boyfriend, Mel, we
want all the details.”
Amy piped up, “Yes! Don’t spare us
anything.”
It was then as I stood near the door,
looking back at my captive audience—waiting for me to reveal all about my utter
lie—it was then I realised that I could be anybody I wanted to be. I could
paint this amazing picture of my life back home and just how much I had moved
on, grown up. That I wasn’t that country bumpkin pining away for the likes of
Max Henry, no siree. I was an independent woman who had my shit together, and
now I had an audience in front of me, and via long distance it seemed, I
planned to give them the most amazing version of my less-than-interesting life.
I cleared my throat and spoke up loudly, glancing to make sure the green light
was on the intercom as I began the story about my amazing make-believe
boyfriend.
Chapter
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