Say Hello and Wave Goodbye Page 19

  Don’t answer that.

  Flynn grabs a handle on the side of the lawn mower and yanks a cord sharply several times and I’m reminded of a outboard motor on a boat. After several attempts it rattles noisily into life amid a blast of black smoke and a smell of petrol.

  ‘Okay?’ he shouts over the noise of the mower as he stands up.

  ‘Yep.’ I grab hold of the handle and trundle it slowly forward and discover that it’s not as easy as I thought it would be because the still longish grass puts up resistance. I push harder and after the first pass I get the hang of it and go back over the strip I’ve just done to catch the bits the blades missed the first time around.

  Flynn picks up the long-handled shears and starts lopping off brambles and tossing them into a pile. I definitely have the easier job.

  In no time at all the grass is short and while it won’t win any competitions for lawn of the year it looks a hundred times better than when we arrived. I clomp over to the path to pick up another sack to put the grass cuttings in when I realise that Flynn has stopped hacking the brambles and is staring at the house.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Boss is here, I think. There’s definitely someone else in there because Bazza’s talking to someone.’

  ‘Are you going to say anything about the keeping keys thing?’

  Flynn frowns. ‘I don’t know. I wish he hadn’t told me then I wouldn’t have to make a decision but now I know I can’t help thinking; what if young girls are living in there? Who knows what that creep’s capable of?’

  ‘You could tell your mate, leave it up to him?’

  Flynn shakes his head. ‘I could, but I don’t really want to put that on him. If I’m going to tell anyone it’ll have to be the boss.’

  Bazza appears at the open back door and I can hear his booming voice as he speaks to someone in the kitchen.

  ‘Yeah, they’re nearly finished,’ he shouts over his shoulder. ‘Come and have a look see.’ He steps outside and starts striding towards us and a figure from inside the house comes out into the garden and follows behind him.

  Oh no.

  I knew it, that feeling.

  The man striding down the path behind Bazza is none other than Jonathan. I stare at him in horror and think, why? Why did it have to be him? Why do I always have to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? I think I’m the one that realises who it is first, swiftly followed by Flynn who looks at me in surprise. As Jonathan gets closer recognition dawns on him and I watch as his neutral expression transforms into the biggest, most arrogant smile possible.

  Bazza stops in front of us .

  ‘This is Flynn...’

  ‘Oh, I know who this is,’ Jonathan cuts in, tipping his head to look Flynn up and down from head to toe in a condescending manner before turning to me and doing the same. I will myself not to blush.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ he says with a smirk. ‘Company workforce let you down have they? Did you have to put the overalls on and do a bit of labouring yourself?’ He hoots with laughter and Bazza joins in laughing with pig like snorts although he can’t have any idea what Jonathan is talking about.

  Flynn looks at Jonathan and says nothing.

  ‘Cat got your tongue?’ Jonathan sneers. ‘All that showing off about your business and you’re just a fucking labourer.’ I’m shocked at his outright nastiness – that’s not Jonathan’s style at all, he must be really rattled. For a moment I can’t understand it and then I remember; maybe he’s found out I that dobbed him in to Em.

  Flynn draws himself up to his full height and looks down his nose at Jonathan.

  ‘Nothing wrong with labouring and I don’t remember getting a word in because you were the one doing all the showing off. Anyway, it’s better than being a slum landlord.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with having a property portfolio.’

  ‘Nothing at all if you don’t have any principles, especially hiring scum like Bazza to bodge ‘em up.’

  Bazza gives Flynn a bewildered look at the mention of his name, a look which quickly turns murderous and I can see the situation ballooning out of control.

  ‘Well, mister high and mighty.’ Jonathan steps forward and jabs his finger at Flynn. ‘You can take your poxy dog with you and do one ‘cos your services are no longer required.’

  Flynn and Jonathan glare menacingly at each other.

  I clear my throat. ‘Look...’ I start to say.

  ‘And her, take that lying bitch with you as well,’ Jonathan says without taking his eyes off Flynn.

  ‘Don’t talk about her like that. Apologise.’ Flynn pushes his face closer to Jonathan’s. ‘Now.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ sneers Jonathan. ‘She’s a liar. A cheating, lying bitch who’ll say anything to get what she wants. I wouldn’t trust her mate; she’ll only stab you in the back as well.’

  I realise then that he definitely knows that I dobbed him in to Em.

  ‘You’re not my mate and this is your last chance, Jono. Apologise.’ Flynn’s voice is so low that it’s almost a growl.

  A flicker of unease briefly crosses Jonathan’s face but he puts his hands on his hips and curls his lip in a sneer.

  ‘No chance.’

  Flynn moves so quickly that he makes me jump; burly Bazza and I watch as he grabs hold of Jonathan’s shirt in a bunch of cloth at the front of his throat and nearly lifts him off his feet.

  ‘I’m waiting.’

  ‘Let go, you’re choking me!’

  Flynn stares fixedly at him and out of the corner of my eye I see Bazza casually pick up a length of wood from the pile lying outside the back door and slowly move towards Flynn.

  ‘Flynn! Please! Let him go!’ I shout, afraid that Bazza is going to hit him with the wood.

  ‘Flynn! Please!’ I shout again as I see Bazza edging slowly towards them and raising the wood in the air.

  Flynn looks over at me and loosens his grip and Jonathan takes the opportunity to duck out from under his arm and stagger down the garden towards the house away from him. When he thinks he’s a safe distance away he stands and smoothes down his shirt.

  ‘She might be with you but it’s still me she wants, she can’t help herself,’ he smirks and shouts at Flynn. ‘Like I said, once a bitch always a bitch.’

  I open my mouth to explain about Bazza but stop myself; I’ll explain to Flynn later, for now I just want us to leave before Jonathan and Bazza gang up on Flynn and beat him up.

  Flynn’s mouth is fixed in a thin line and there’s a brief moment of before Flynn takes off and thunders across the pile of grass cuttings towards him. Jonathan hastily turns and runs full pelt towards the back door of the house, slipping and sliding on the mud in his fancy brown slip-ons. Just as Flynn reaches him Jonathan manages to scoot inside the house and slam the back door shut. Flynn grabs the door handle and puts his shoulder into the door and I can see Jonathan through the glass pane struggling to hold the handle up while trying to turn the key in the lock.

  ‘Whoaa!’ shouts Bazza, tossing aside the length of wood as he thuds after Flynn. ‘Easy! Easy! That’s a new door! I’ve only just fitted it!’

  ‘It’s a flimsy load of shite,’ Flynn says turning to him. ‘I could put it through with one kick.’

  ‘You’d better not or you’ll be paying for it.’

  Flynn pauses and looks at me and then at the back door.

  Jonathan stares out from the kitchen, confident that he’s safe behind a locked door, his mouth set in a triumphant grin as he raises both hands, the fingers splayed in the universal two fingered fuck off gesture.

  ‘No problem, Bazza.’ Flynn calmly turns and faces Jonathan through the back door. ‘I’LL JUST GO ROUND THE FRONT,’ he bellows through the glass to Jonathan.

  The smile wiped from his face, Jonathan disappears from view and Flynn takes off and races along the garden and down the side path of the house to the front.

  I stand frozen to the spot and watch as Bazza follows Flynn at a
sedate pace; he has a smirk on his face and has picked up the length of wood again. He gives me a leering wink as he turns and disappears around the corner of the house.

  I run across to the gate and quickly un-loop Sausage’s lead, scoop him up and tuck him under my arm then jog over the lawn and down the path to the front of the house.

  Typically, just when I could do with some advice from that bloody bird it’s ominously quiet.

  ‘What are we going to do, Sausage?’ I whimper as I race around the corner, ‘What are we going to do?’

  Chapter Nineteen

  T hings haven’t been the same between Flynn and I since the near punch up with Jonathan two weeks ago. We never did get to have that bacon and fried egg sandwich.

  When I arrived at the front of the house with Sausage tucked safely underneath my arm, burly Bazza was grappling with Flynn to stop him from getting to Jonathan, who’d fled from the house and jumped into his car and was about to shut the door and drive off. Bazza had dispensed with the length of wood and jumped onto Flynn’s back with his arms wrapped around his throat and was hanging onto him for dear life trying to keep him from stopping Jonathan get away.

  Flynn wrenched Bazza’s arms from him and shook him off and Bazza fell heavily onto the pavement. Flynn ran to Jonathan’s car and tried to pull the car door open but it was locked. With a triumphant grin at Flynn, Jonathan started the engine and revved it noisily. Flynn then ran in front of the car and threw himself across the bonnet in an attempt to stop him driving away. It all seemed to happen in slow motion although it must have only been seconds and I felt sick as I realised what was going to happen if Flynn didn’t get off the car.

  I ran up behind him screaming to please, please stop and to let him go because I knew that Jonathan wouldn’t hesitate to run Flynn over in his attempt to get away – and I couldn’t bear the thought of Flynn getting hurt.

  Flynn seemed to calm down instantly when he heard me; he jumped off the bonnet and stood and watched as the car sped off then turned around and strode past me wordlessly. I followed him into the back garden and watched as he silently gathered up his tools. My legs were shaking so badly and I felt sick, I tried to think of something to say but I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound completely stupid and pointless. I must have been holding Sausage too tightly because he made a little squeaking noise and I realised that he was still tucked underneath my arm. I loosened my grip and could feel his little body quivering too.

  We both came back out to the street and I got into the cab while Flynn loaded the tools onto the back of the truck, Bazza was nowhere to be seen and I think he’d gone back into the house because the front door was shut. The plank of wood was still lying on the ground.

  We drove home in silence and I tried to tell Flynn about dobbing Jonathan in to Em because he deserved some sort of explanation of Jonathan’s behaviour. I hadn’t told him before because to be honest I felt like a snitch; I wasn’t proud of myself for doing it and I told myself I’d forgotten to tell him but the truth of it is that I didn’t want Flynn to think badly of me.

  But he wouldn’t let me tell him; as soon as I started speaking he said that what I did had nothing to do with him and I didn’t need to explain myself to him because it was none of his business. I couldn’t get a word in and I felt quite hurt. I thought we were friends but he wouldn’t even listen to me; it was as if he was angry with me .

  So we came home and he dropped me off outside the house and said he had things to do and drove off and I’ve hardly seen him since. Things feel awkward between us and I don’t know why, we seem to have lost our easy going relationship and I feel as if he can barely look at me.

  He’s been working late or going out in the evenings since it happened and I’ve missed our routine of shared meals and easy laughter. Even when he’s here it’s not the same; I’d cooked an extra big lasagne and he actually came home on time but when I offered him a plateful, he said he’d already eaten. I realised then that things were bad because lasagne’s his favourite.

  I’ve managed to annoy the very best housemate that I’ve ever had but more importantly I feel as if I’ve lost a friend and I don’t know why or how to get him back. I just want things to go back to how they were.

  Flynn hasn’t told me where he’s been going and why should he? Because of the way things are between us I don’t even feel as if I can ask. Although I have wondered if he’s got a new boyfriend.

  I’ve had to give myself a bit of a talking to because I’ll admit to feeling more than a little pang of jealousy at the thought of Flynn spending his evenings elsewhere while I go back to meals for one. The Beccabird has also given me a damn good telling off and told to get out there and get a life. I seriously do need to get a life of my own and stop relying on Flynn to fill my evenings because let’s face it, he’s not going to be single for long and he’s obviously had enough of me if I can’t even tempt him with lasagne.

  So this is my life at the moment and I’m trying so hard to not be miserable because I have Australia to look forward to and Mum and Dad are so excited about it. I visited them at the weekend and I could feel the excitement in the air as I went in. They’d been shopping for new holiday clothes – not too summery because it won’t be hot – and Dad even tried all of his new trousers and shirts on and did a fashion parade for me. I tried my best to join in with their enthusiasm and look as keen to go as they are because it is the trip of a lifetime and they’re extremely generous paying for me.

  I think I fooled them.

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Okay, Flynn and I aren’t as friendly as we were but he’s only my housemate after all, it’s not the end of the world.

  But I feel so sad.

  Trina says I need to get out there and go out on a few dates, she says that’s what she always does when she’s feeling a bit blue and it cheers her up in no time. But like I’ve told her – they’re not exactly queuing up at the door to take me out, are they? She says it’s because I’m sending out negative vibes and putting them off. I think I must be pretty good at sending out negative vibes because dates have been pretty thin on the ground these last seven years and before I moved here, I was considering internet dating. I might have to consider it again.

  Desperate! shouts my non-best friend the Beccabird, and as usual she’s completely correct but actually thinking about it I don’t think I can even be bothered to try and get a date, I’m just not that bothered. I’d rather be on my own and miserable.

  Honestly, someone needs to kick me.

  And to put the tin hat on it (as Mum would say, whatever that means) I’ve been summoned to a meeting with Em and Ed tomorrow morning. I’ve no idea what it’s about and there was no indication in the very brief email from Em but as it’s both of them I’m guessing it’s not good.

  I have seen neither sight nor sound of Jonathan at work since he nearly ran Flynn over; he’s probably avoiding me as much as I’m avoiding him. I’ve not seen him going into Em’s office either although it’s entirely possible that he’s been in there a hundred times and I’ve just missed him; I can’t keep a watch on her office door the whole day.

  All my imagined scenarios of me bumping into him have been wasted. I have two favourites – putting my nose in the air in an aloof way and totally ignoring him or laughing in a haughty, superior way and reminding him that he ran away from Flynn. I probably wouldn’t do either in all honesty, most likely I’ll stumble and fall over or do something equally accident prone and end up with a face the colour of beetroot while he smirks. Hopefully I’ll never find out.

  All in all I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself and it’s all my own fault, although I’m not completely sure what it is I’ve done but I must have done something.

  Enough feeling sorry for myself. It’s just gone ten o’clock so it looks like Flynn is staying out again. I trudge despondently up the stairs to bed.

  Bedtime. Also known as a night of not sleeping for worrying about what tomorrow’s me
eting will bring.

  ✽✽✽

  Trina keeps looking at me; the meeting is at ten o’clock and it’s a quarter to now. We’ve talked this over so many times, Trina keeps telling me that it’s probably nothing – I haven’t done anything wrong so what could it be? More than likely, she says, it’s just a routine follow up about those fancy spread sheets that I’ve been preparing for Em. I wish I had Trina’s confidence.

  There still hasn’t been an announcement about the merger although Em told me over two weeks ago that it was imminent – has word got out about it and it’s now off? Is this why they want to see me – to tell me it’s all my fault and my loose lips have cost the company millions and they’re going to escort me off the premises immediately? I said this to Trina and she said I was being ridiculous and I know I am but I also know that when everything in my life seems to be going swimmingly, behind the scenes a huge hammer is waiting to descend and wreck my life.

  Let’s face it, just look at my history. Jonathan – I thought I had the perfect life but unbeknown to me he was cheating on me and running up debt in my name as well.

  Two weeks ago I thought my life was getting back on track; I had a holiday to Australia to look forward to and housemate that most people would kill for.

  Now Flynn can barely speak to me.

  Yes, I still have the trip to Australia.

  For now.

  Unless Em’s going to change her mind and that’s what this meeting is for.

  Don’t you feel sorry for yourself , sneers the ever helpful Beccabird, there are lots of people worse off than you .

  Yes. I know there are, but for once, just let me wallow in peace.