Chapter 5 – Thou Shalt Always Kill

Thou shalt not think any male over the age of 30 that plays with a child that is not their own is a paedophile,

Some people are just nice.

Thou Shalt Always Kill – Dan Le Sac Vs. Scroobius Pip (From the album Angles)

(The lyrics belong to the artist as above, I claim nothing)

“So, Natalia, I see you’re still not married.”

It would, Alex decided, have been worth coming back to Bridunna just to see the fall out from this one, pointed comment.

Talia’s spine straightened so fast it was a wonder he didn’t hear a cracking sound as all the vertebrae realigned. He took a small step backwards towards the wood panelled wall, definitely looking forward to hearing exactly how Talia put the gossipy old bitch back into her place, but not stupid enough to want to be too close when it happened.

“Well, hello to you too, Mrs Foster” Talia’s usually warm greeny/brown eyes were hard as she faced her adversary.

Ignoring the obvious dig about her manners, the old lady pursed her lips and reached forward to tap Talia’s unadorned ring finger crossly.

“A ring’s what you need, young lady. You’ve been with the Whitby boy for years now, it’s high time you got married.” She fluffed her grey hair self-importantly before adding, “I don’t buy into any of this new age ‘partner’ nonsense.”

Talia cocked her head to one side and looked her opponent up and down before saying coldly, “Shame, a new age partner could be just what you need.”

Alex took a mouthful of the Bridunna Christmas party punch he’d grabbed earlier and looked with interest to see how Mrs Foster was going to take that cheeky comeback. Damn he was glad Talia and her family had come up to Bridunna with him.

“Teasing me isn’t going to change the reality of your situation, Natalia.” Mrs Foster gave a little shake of her shoulders as if readjusting her ruffled feathers, “I know the way of things; without a ring what is there to bind your Jack to you?”

“God, you’re right,” Talia did a good job of looking stricken and Alex could see that Mrs Foster was about to congratulate herself on a job well done when the younger woman made a big show of looking relieved. “Oh,” She smacked her forehead as if just remembering something, “that’s right, we’re crazily in love and I birthed two living, breathing human beings that are his world.”

Mrs Foster shook her head patronisingly and Alex took another small step back, “Men leave their ‘loves’ and children all the time.”

“But there’s no such thing as divorce?” Talia asked pointedly, “What on earth do a ring and a big white dress prove?”

“That you belong to each other. That you’ve sworn fealty to him.” Mrs Foster responded immediately.

Talia snorted loudly, “I love Jack more than life itself, but I’ll swear fealty to no-one.”

This more than anything else in the conversation seemed to piss the older woman off and she flat out glared at Jacks’s non-wife, “Marriage might teach you a bit of humility.” She snapped and Talia shared a quick, amused glance with Alex before replying,

“I find that extremely unlikely.”

Struck momentarily dumb, presumably by Talia’s unapologetically impudent ways, Mrs Foster took a moment to rally herself, but when she did she spoke with pure ice. “Well, with an attitude like yours I suppose I can understand why Jack wouldn’t want to marry you.”

“Excuse me?”

Alex glanced around at the crowded community hall, draped in swaths of green, red and gold, and wondered how the hell he was the only one listening in to this. Everybody else’s drama radars must have been on the blink, or the corner they were standing in had somehow soundproofed itself. Either way, their only witnesses to the conversation appeared to be the slouch hat wearing men, staring solemnly down on them from the various commemorative war photos lining the walls.

“You know what? I’m bored of this now.” Talia held her hands up, but there was no way the move could be mistaken for surrender. “You want to know the real reason Jack and I never got married? Frankly it’s just never really come up, no big deal. We’ve been too busy living our lives to worry about having a big party just to satisfy other people’s expectations.” Mrs Foster opened her mouth to protest, but Talia held up a finger to forestall her.

“No, I’m not done. Maybe in the past we haven’t really thought about it, but now I have, I realise just how much I hate the idea of a piece of paper telling me how Jack and I should love each other. A piece of paper, by the way, that does nothing but reinforce outdated ideas about ownership and male domination. Jack and I love each other, and our kids, I don’t want or need a ring to tell me that.”

This speech couldn’t be left unappreciated, so Alex tossed his still half full cup into a nearby rubbish bin and brought his hands together in applause.

Mrs Foster jerked her head round, as if only just realising that they had an audience. Her eyes immediately narrowed as she saw who was clapping and her expression clearly read: ‘And don’t even get me started on you.’

Fortunately, she didn’t get an opportunity to start laying into him as Talia swung into action, grasping Alex by his arm and towing him away from the forthcoming confrontation.

“Oh my God!” She seethed as they walked, “That…woman!”

Alex kept quiet, knowing from experience that his input at this ‘ranting’ stage, was unnecessary.

“I’m almost 28, I’m a mother, I’m a Legal Aid lawyer, defender of the downtrodden masses, I’m well-bloody-respected where I come from and she thinks she can turn her nose up at me?”

“Who has dared turn their nose up at you?” Jack, obviously sensing Talia’s ire from across the room, appeared by her side, resting a gentle hand against the small of her back.

“And you!” Talia turned and smacked his chest with the palm of her hand, “There will be no fealty swearing around here, understand?”

“Okay,” Jack said slowly as he raised his eyebrows questioningly at Alex who could only grin and shake his head.

There was no point bothering to try to hide his appreciation of Talia’s outrage. That was the reaction this place deserved, people should get angry and fight back, not just take the shit that was thrown at them. As if reading his mind, Talia pulled back from the kiss she’d been giving Jack to show he was not really the one she was cross with, and then looked across at Alex to ask,

“Seriously, how does Grace do it? Keep her cool with these people?”

Alex automatically looked over at the woman in question and Talia and Jack followed his line of sight, before flicking each other quick, knowing looks as they noted how he knew exactly where Grace was in the large room.

For his part, Alex didn’t register anything unusual. It was just a habit for him to keep Grace in his peripheral vision when he knew she was nearby.

And, to be fair, even without his unconscious ability to keep tabs on her, it wasn’t as if she was exactly fading into the background. Clad in a bright crimson dress with a sprig of holly wound into her messy bun, Grace was always going to be as noticeable as the angel on the top of the Christmas tree. Crouching down amongst a cluster of little kids, the disc of golden wood around her neck catching the light as she leant forward to admire the presents they’d received from ‘Santa’, she was practically the bloody poster child for goodwill and cheer.

“It’s a gutsy move, you know, coming back here.” Talia’s voice held an edge of censure that Alex would’ve had to be deaf to miss, “You might not like it, but you can’t deny it’s taken a fair whack of courage for her to do it.”

When he shot her a look in reply that just as clearly replied, ‘I get your point, now piss off’, Talia grinned and then turned back to Jack.

“Right then, where’s Georgia?” She asked, “She must have conned someone into giving her red cordial by now and if she’s going to throw up I know exactly whose shoes I want her aiming for.”

Tucking her arm around Jack’s waist, she leant in against him and they headed off towards her parents who had been charged with the unenviable task of watching the twins for the evening. Alex barely registered their departure, his gaze falling back on Grace and sharpening painfully as Oliver went over to join her, holding drinks for them both.

Smoothing down her red dress, she straightened, waving goodbye to her young friends, and smiled her thanks for the punch. As he watched, she tipped the plastic cup up and took a small sip even though he knew she hated the stuff. Sure enough, she made a tiny face of disgust and chucked the rest into the bin as Oliver turned away briefly to greet one of, Alex guessed, the many people who were using the evening to size him up.

His good humour from her drink subterfuge evaporated, however, as Oliver turned his attention back onto her and leant forward to tuck a stray strand of her hair back behind her ear. Grace smiled at him fondly, clearly not offended by the move, but, out of nowhere, Alex suddenly imagined himself striding over there and knocking his hand away.

‘Leave her alone,’ he could see himself saying, ‘she’s fine as she is.’

Crap. Deliberately turning so his back was to the happy couple, Alex gazed unseeingly across the mass of bustling people surrounding him. That had not been a good thought.

If Grace’s Princess Diana-esque performance with the kids was anything to go by, she was really going overboard at the party trying to fit back into her old life, the life she’d had before he’d turned up in it. He could just imagine her reaction if he stuffed that up in front of the whole town.

Fine, so he was just going to observe, no dramas.

“Alex Coogan!” A hearty voice suddenly boomed in his ear and a heavy, meaty hand clapped down on him.

Staying on his feet, but only just, Alex twisted round to see who had just about dislocated his shoulder. The face he saw grinning manically at him was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put a name to it. Still, the greeting had been friendly enough, so he refrained from replying sarcastically,

‘Random guy I went to high school with!’

Instead, going with a non-committal,

“Hey.”

“Fuck me, it really is you.” The first guy was a giant, all thick neck and boulder-like muscles so it took Alex a moment to realise that there was actually a group of people with him, one of whom had just added his two cents worth in.

“Never thought you’d show your face here again after what you did.”

Now there was a face he did remember, Ky Sutherland, the old best friend of Grace’s son of a bitch ex. He shifted from foot to foot, wearing an ugly expression, and Alex eyed him distrustfully. It was pretty clear that Ky hadn’t been sticking to the non-alcoholic refreshments and it was just as clear that he was just gagging for a fight.

The 15 year old Alex would have said ‘bring it on’, but hauling the dick outside and giving him what for was no longer an option, so Alex contented himself by murmuring,

“Yeah, well, wonders never cease,” before turning away from the group.

He wanted to get out of there, go outside and clear his head of all the Bridunna bullshit, but he was forestalled when he looked around and realised he’d made a fatal error.

The short interaction with his former classmates, as unremarkable as it had been, had clearly drawn attention to him and whispers rippled around him as if he was the proverbial pebble in the still pond. He couldn’t hear what people were saying, but he could take an educated guess and he realised he really hadn’t thought through the whole ‘rock up to the Bridunna Christmas party and rub my existence in their faces’ thing.

He’d wanted to beat the rumour mongers, play them at their own game by appearing in front of the whole town and showing that, yes, he really was there and, no, he didn’t give a damn what they thought. What he’d actually ended up doing, he realised belatedly, was give them more of the ammo they craved.

He could feel Ky and co still watching him closely and, not wanting to stand so near with his back towards a group of unfriendly drunk men, he shook himself out of the thoughts that had frozen him in place and headed for the doors. He almost made it too, he was only a scant couple of metres away from escape, when he was accosted again.

“Alex, isn’t it?” The local baker and a posse of his middle-aged friends appeared in his way, planting their feet solidly and crossing their arms in a ‘not so fast, buddy’ kind of way.

Looking them up and down Alex realised they were a depressing reflection of the group that he had just left behind. Bridunna men of all ages sure seemed to like to roam in packs.

When he didn’t respond in any way to the belligerent enquiry, mostly because it was blatantly fucking obvious that he was Alex, the baker continued, “What are you doing with yourself these days? Still playing with knives?”

Alex swallowed a smile as it suddenly became abundantly clear why the baker specifically had seen fit to approach him. There might have been a carving incident or two along the bakery windowsill in the past…

“On and off,” He replied, deliberately vague, and the expression on the older man’s face darkened.

“Haven’t grown out of it then? Still into vandalism?”

“Something like that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” The macho atmosphere vanished in an instant as Grace stalked into view, her expression and tone of voice indicating all manner of womanly disapproval. “What Alex meant to say, Mr Bullock, was that he now carves pieces that people pay hundreds and, in a few cases, thousands of dollars to own.”

The baker and his entourage turned incredulous eyes to Alex who shrugged,

“Don’t ask me, as far as I’m concerned I just work in a bar and occasionally stick knives into bits of wood.”

“Well,” Mr Bullock lived up to his name as his expression turned as mutinous and stubborn as a bull’s, albeit a castrated one, “All that goes to show is that some people are just begging for their money to be taken.”

The group shot him one more disgusted look, as coordinated as the back up bitches in a teen movie, before trundling off towards the buffet. Alex gave a little wave and then looked down at Grace and pressed a hand to his chest.

“My hero!” He deadpanned, but her expression was stony as she said,

“You’ve got to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Alex lowered his hand and then, noticing all the people gawking over at them, shifted his body round to shield her from the worst of it. It surprised him to realise as he did so that, despite the years him and Grace had been friends and all the rumours about what they’d got up to as teenagers, this was probably the first time for most of the people in the town actually seeing them together.

“Deliberately underselling your talent.” Grace did a good job of pretending she hadn’t noticed his protective move, or the reason for it, but he could see the tension in her shoulders and knew it was only partly to do with their conversation.

“Why? You think I’m going to get any medals around here for doing a bit of whittling every now and again?” He saw her open her mouth to protest and got in before she could deliver another lecture, “I know what I do, G, I know that other people like it and value it, but these people are never going to like anything that I do and I just don’t give a shit.”

“So you’re happy to encourage them into treating you like some juvenile delinquent rather than the respected craftsman that you are?” She demanded.

“Yeah,” He saw the flicker of anger in her eyes and was reassured he’d properly diverted her attention away from their negative audience, “you know why?”

“Clearly not.” She spoke through clenched teeth.

“Fuck ‘em, that’s why,” He saw Oliver approaching over her shoulder and quickly leant down to whisper again in her ear, “Fuck ‘em.”

Her golden cat eyes widened, but whatever her response to that was going to be was forestalled as her boyfriend stepped up and Alex took a corresponding step back.

The atmosphere in the hall tightened expectantly. And, it was true, the moment did bear all the hallmarks of a testosterone fuelled mess just waiting to happen. Clearly, however, the town hadn’t known Oliver long enough to know that he’d rather cut off his own hand than create a scene, and as for Alex, well…

“There you are,” Oliver smiled down at his girlfriend, “I turned my back for a second and you were gone.”

“Sorry,” she flicked an apologetic glance up at him, her fingers closing around her ATW necklace, “I just had to nip over and save Alex.”

“Oh?” Oliver cast a considering glance over at the person in question and then, clearly not finding anything wrong with him, added, “From what?”

“Oh, the usual,” She dropped her hand down from the pendant and shot Alex a pointed look, “Himself.”

Not at all chastised, Alex shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ kind of way at Oliver before asking,

“So, how’re you enjoying the famous Bridunna Christmas party?”

“It’s good,” Oliver looked around for something to add to that rather bland assessment and spotted the buffet table, adding, “The amount of food is incredible.”

“The good people of Bridunna do like a lamington or ten,” Alex nodded sagely, keeping the ‘mate, your girlfriend is being ripped to shreds by everyone in this room, what the fuck are you doing talking about food?’ edge in his voice down to nothing but a subtle underline to his words. Although clearly not subtle enough, he realised, if the very cross look Grace was sending him was anything to go by.

Smothering a sigh he took his cue and started backing away towards the doors he’d been originally aiming for. “Well, I’ll leave the pair of you to it then,” He dipped his head slightly in Grace’s direction in a mockery of deference and then turned away.

Finally escaping through the heavy doors onto the concrete steps, he just barely resisted the temptation to slam the door behind himself, but, with an effort, he stilled his arm and let it glide gently shut. Starting down the steps and breathing in the still warm, eucalyptus scented air he experienced a brief moment of homesickness and longed for the petrol scented, exhaust filled air of the city.

This longing turned alarmingly quickly into a desire for a smoke, something he hadn’t had for years. Maybe that was it, he thought with a slight smirk, maybe he’d only taken up smoking in the first place as a way to cloud the Bridunna air and stop it from being so unrelentingly, fucking perfect.

Seeing a group of people sitting and standing on the steps to his right, he automatically turned to the left, heading towards the patch of trees where he’d tucked his motorbike earlier. It looked like the evening was over. He’d done what he’d set out to do, it was unlikely there was any man, woman or child left in Bridunna who didn’t know for sure that he really was back.

Jogging down the steps, he cursed the stupid chains that spanned his hip from belt loop to back pocket as they jangled annoyingly. This bad boy get up wasn’t all it was cracked up to be; it had only been 24 hours and he was already sick of it. He rubbed a hand across the short spikes on his head and wryly admitted to himself that it was yet another thing to chalk up to ‘seemed like a good idea at the time’.

His appearance was completely forgotten in the next moment, however, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he was able to make out a slight figure standing over the motorbike. His senses sharpening he nevertheless kept his approach steady and was rewarded for his caution when he arrived at the bike and realised that the person was a teenage girl.

“Hey there,” He said calmly, not wanting to startle her, but she was clearly made of stern stuff and only spared him the briefest of glances before returning her attention to the machine.

“You have a 2005 Harley Davidson Dyna Super Glide FXDC,” She said, clearly trying to be cool about it, but failing miserably as her voice rose slightly in admiration. She circled the bike, her hands up like she wanted to touch it, but reverently keeping air between herself and the bike at all times.

“Do I?” He asked in amusement, not having taken much notice of the model when he’d borrowed it. He knew it was a Harley Dyna Glide, but he hadn’t thought about it any further than that. Tilting his head, he looked to see if the make was displayed anywhere and had to concede a moment later that she had got the information from her own head.

“You don’t know?” She asked sceptically, swinging her straight, dark hair out of her face to look at him suspiciously.

Alex leant back against the wide trunk of a nearby tree and crossed his arms as he considered her.

The reality was that when he’d first moved to the city and had still been desperately trying to prove his toughness, he’d fallen in with some motorcycle guys and they had been the ones to prompt him into getting his licence and spending some time riding. He hadn’t fallen in love with it like they had, however, and it had been years since he’d been on a bike, no big deal. This girl’s awestruck expression told him this probably wasn’t the best thing to say to her, however, so he focused on something else instead.

“You’re Grace’s cousin’s kid.” He guessed, and, this time, she didn’t even bother looking up as she replied,

“So? You’re that Alex guy, the one that everyone hates.”

That surprised a low chuckle out of him. “Yep, that’s me,” He confirmed, watching as she crouched down to get a better look at the tyres of the bike and feeling compelled to ask, “So what are you doing out here?” Avoiding what he was actually thinking which was ‘how the hell did you escape Grace’s mum?’

“Twin cam 88, right?” She asked, completely ignoring his question, “Plenty of torque,” She peered down closer at the suspension and shook her head like a seasoned mechanic, “but I bet the rear end bottoms out.”

“She has her moments, but rides well,” Alex resigned himself to the technical discussion of the bike’s specs he could see she was dying to have. “You know, smooth out on the open road, great lean angle, but, yeah, could do with stiffer springs.”

“Front and rear brakes,” Her sullen expression came alive as she talked and Alex saw the first glimmers of family resemblance with Grace in her face, “How does she pull up?”

“Pretty good,” He nodded, “But you need both sets if you want to come to a sudden stop.”

She absorbed this information and then peered closer at the tank and reached out towards it asking, “Is that gaffa tape?”

“Do you want to give her a spin?” Alex interrupted, pushing himself off the tree and walking over quickly to stop her revealing the Tinkerbell design that pretty much haunted his nightmares.

She, thankfully, didn’t seem to make a connection between his sudden question and the patch on the bike, or was at least wily enough to know that she shouldn’t push it if she wanted to have a go.

“Are you serious?” She demanded, before quickly adding, “I mean, I’m 16 and everything, but-”

“You’re 14.” He interrupted her again, but was amused by her deception despite himself, “But people round here aren’t that bothered about age when it comes to machines and, besides, you’ll be riding pillion.” Walking over to the handlebar he slipped the helmet off the perch and chucked it over to her.

“It’ll be too big for you, pinhead,” He grinned, “but better than nothing.”

Her eyes widened and an impressed look, that she would no doubt deny if called out on, flitted across her face before she jammed the helmet down over her head.

Kicking the stand up, Alex straddled the seat and held out a hand to haul Maxxie up behind him. Once she was settled, he pulled the choke out a little bit, pressed the starter and the bike roared into life.

He felt her small hands grab his shoulders and, satisfied that she was holding on tight, he roared off onto the dirt road making sure to let the back wheel kick out so a spray of gravel flew up after them.

Fuck, but he’d missed being the Bad Boy of Bridunna.

Conscious that he needed to put the bike through her paces, he turned onto one of the back roads that he knew had some sharp corners and then curved round to link up with a part of the highway where he could kick it into its cruising mode.

The air whipped against them and the sky was huge, creating the impression that any second they were going to hit the horizon and smash through it like some sort of Beatles-esque Lucy in the Sky moment. It was pretty incredible and Alex had to admit to himself that there actually was some stuff that was better out in the country; you couldn’t get this feeling of weightlessness in city traffic.

Conscious of his passenger, however, and how people were going to start missing her soon, he forced himself to pull a U-ey before too long and then cut back towards the town hall along the side roads that gave the opportunity for dirt road handling and hill work.

Eventually he pulled back up round the side of the community hall and turned off the bike, feeling that slight buzz down his legs like he always did after a ride. He waited until Maxxie jumped nimbly off the seat and then climbed off as well, turning to face her just as she pulled the helmet off her head to reveal eyes wide with a sort of crazed happiness.

Seeing him looking, she forced her expression into a scowl and, as she threw the helmet back at him, she said cuttingly,

“Geez, grandpa, could you have gone any slower?”

Alex threw back his head and laughed, surprising himself by how good a time he was having. “You’re so full of it.” He accused her, “But, hey, if you don’t like my driving, don’t worry, I won’t put you through it again.”

She smiled crookedly, as if only one half of her mouth had managed to break through her tough-girl exterior, and shrugged, “I guess we could do this again some other time if you wanted. I mean I might have some pointers to help you ride better.”

He laughed again and the other side of her mouth joined in with her smile and everything was good, until a shadow off to the side shifted and revealed itself to be someone standing there watching them.

“Oh shit,” Maxxie swore, her face instantly clouding over, “Not you.”

15 minutes previously

“A stick got caught in the spoke of my front wheel, locked the whole thing up, and I went flying over the handlebars,” Oliver laughed self-deprecatingly. “I landed on my wrist and that was that, I was off to the hospital.”

I looked around in dismay as I saw that our audience had grown from the two or three people who had originally asked us how we’d first met to what looked like just about every woman in the town.

“And there she was,” Oliver didn’t seem to be at all bothered by the crowd so that at least was something to be thankful for, “Grace, looking beautiful as only she can in her nurses smock.”

I smiled self-consciously and cast around again to see if Alex had returned.

He hadn’t.

Bastard.

I’d been simmering with resentment towards him every since he’d done a runner, but the simmer was moving dangerously close to the boil the more I thought about it. How dare he just turn up like this and screw around with everything? It had seemed like such a relief to see him at first, somebody on my side amongst a bunch of people determined to think the worst of me. And, yeah, that whole bad boy get up had seemed funny the previous day, but I wasn’t laughing now.

All I’d heard since I’d entered the town hall, that I’d spent so many hours painstakingly decorating, was Alex’s name. I’d hoped to use the night to introduce the town to Oliver and present myself as something other than the traitor I’d been branded, but I was undermined at every turn. How could anyone take me and Oliver seriously as a couple when Alex was there?

And, worst of all, Alex didn’t even care. This was all just some massive joke to him, a fun little dip back into his past where he got to act like a teenager again and stir up the same shit he’d taken such delight in stirring in the past. Never mind that I was trying to start anew for Oliver’s sake. Never mind that I couldn’t concentrate when I knew he was nearby…

“Aren’t there rules about nurses dating patients?” My attention was drawn back to the group in front of me and, especially, to Maria Langshaw who had been as obvious with her continued disapproval of me as she had been of her approval of Oliver.

“No,” I answered shortly, still too caught up in my angry thoughts about Alex to moderate myself properly. When there was a strained silence, I quickly realised my error and forced myself to elaborate, “I mean they don’t encourage you to jump on the gurneys with the ill or injured and start something there and then, but, especially once treatment has finished, there is nothing to say you shouldn’t.”

“And it took me a while to convince her, let me tell you.” Oliver jumped in, effortlessly smoothing over my sharp response while putting an arm across my shoulders. “She turned me down originally, just about broke my heart too, I’d known as soon as I’d seen her that she was something special.”

“So what did you do?” His audience pressed him and it was with some wonder that I realised that, while I’d been stewing away over Alex, Oliver had somehow managed to turn around what had begun as a group hostile to his alien presence in their town, to a flittery, eyelash batting bunch of women hanging off his every word. He really was a marvel.

“Tried again,” There was an enigmatic twinkle in his eye that told me he had no intention of revealing to these people how he’d convinced me to go on that first date, and I was glad.

It was one of my favourite ‘Oliver moments’ that day when I’d emerged, exhausted, out into the foyer of the hospital and seen the guy I’d treated the day before for a badly sprained wrist sitting on one of the hard, plastic chairs waiting for me. My heart had sunk, it had been a long, hard shift and seeing him there had had all the makings of an awkward, potentially alarming encounter with someone I’d already turned down.

Obviously sensing my wariness, he had stood up slowly, his hands up in the universal ‘hey, it’s cool, I’m not a threat, honest’ kind of gesture. Professional habit had sent my eyes flicking across quickly to the bandage I’d strapped onto him and I had found it somehow reassuring that it was still tightly in place and pristine.

“Hi, look, I’m sorry to come back here like this when you told me quite plainly yesterday that you weren’t interested in a date.” His sandy hair flopped endearingly over one eye and I had felt the tiniest thawing towards him. “I promise I don’t usually do this kind of thing. I’m, ah, actually not very good at romantic gestures and I don’t want to embarrass you…or myself come to that.”

He took small step towards me and then, obviously thinking that maybe that was too forward, stepped back again. “But, I’ve thought about you all day and how I tripped over myself trying to ask you out and, if you’ve got a moment, I’d like to try again, this time when I’m not on such heavy painkillers.”

It had been the ‘if you’ve got a moment’ that had got me. It had been so achingly polite that I couldn’t imagine refusing him. And so, smiling slightly, and ignoring the giggles of the other nurses I’d walked out of the lift with, I had moved over to his side.

“I’m not some weird, strange stalker,” He’d then gone on to say earnestly, “I’m really a very normal guy, in fact some would say I verge onto the just plain boring so I swear the worst thing that will happen if you come on a date with me is that you’ll find it a bit dull.”

I’d found myself won over by his self-deprecating humour and sweet smile and that had been that. Looking up at him now, his cheeks slightly rosy from the crowded room and few cups of the potent punch, I felt a little burst of warmth towards my sophisticated boyfriend.

Oliver, I told myself firmly, you’re here for Oliver, not to run around cleaning up Alex’s little messes.

“Well I think she’s very lucky to have found you,” My whole body stiffened as I recognised Amanda’s voice and, sure enough, there she was, towards the back of the group, the little girl I’d seen her holding the day before clinging to one of her legs. Another thing to thank Alex for, if I hadn’t been distracted thinking about him I probably would have spotted her and taken some evasive action.

“I mean,” She continued, raising her voice slightly, “especially after what happened.”

The spiteful little bitch! I pressed my lips tightly together to hold back the internal insults that were longing to go external.

“After what happened?” Oliver repeated, as Amanda must have known he would, and the only thing I had to be thankful for was that he sounded genuinely mystified. Obviously none of the murmured remarks had reached his ears, even though I’d been hearing them non-stop all evening.

I saw Amanda open her mouth again and seriously considered throwing myself in front of Oliver like some sort of shield and shouting, ‘He doesn’t know, okay? He doesn’t know why you all hate me so much and I’d really rather it stayed that way.’

Luckily I was saved from such drastic action by Desi who walked into the mix saying, “Sorry to interrupt everyone, but, Amanda, was that one of your kids I saw a second ago giving one of the Lewis boys a blood nose?”

Snapping immediately into maternal mode, I watched my erstwhile best girl friend awkwardly thank my current one and slip away through the crowd, all thoughts of revenge clearly on hold while she dug her kid out of trouble.

Beaming brightly, Des made her way over to us, deliberately putting her back to the gawkers obviously still itching to see some consequence from Amanda’s pointed words.

“Hi guys, how’s it going?” She asked, her expression so open and guileless even I wondered fleetingly whether she’d been aware of what had been going on. But of course she had, I realised in the next moment, as she shot a quick, concerned glance my way.

“What was all that about?” Oliver looked between me and Desi, obviously finally sensing that something was up, but my friend came to my rescue once again by rolling her eyes nonchalantly and saying airily,

“Ancient bitchy, high school stuff. Nothing important.” She suddenly grinned over his shoulder and said brightly, “Hi, mum, have you met Oliver?”

When Oliver turned to politely greet Desi’s sweet, shy mother, Desi leant in close to me and muttered, “Heads up, your mum’s on the warpath.”

“She is?” I scouted around quickly with my eyes to see if I could spot her, “Why?”

“Maxxie’s done a bunk.”

“Oh, great,” I groaned, thinking about all the memories of my disappearances over the years that was going to bring up for my battleaxe of a mother. That on top of Alex’s confrontations from earlier must be screaming déjà vu to her and she’d hate it.

“I was thinking if we can find Maxxie first we can try and convince your mum she was here the whole time and she just didn’t see her.” When I looked at Desi doubtfully she smiled in acknowledgement of how unlikely her scenario was. “Yeah, I know, but it’s worth a try, we’re all going to end up in the shitter if your mum gets into one of her moods.”

“Very true,” I agreed, “Okay, can you have a stickybeak out the back and see if you can spot her? I’ll check out the front; ten to one she’s just bummed a smoke off someone and gone to be all cool outside for a bit.”

“Roger that,” She went to turn away, but then checked really quickly to see if Oliver was still distracted by her mum and, seeing that he was, added in an undertone, “And forget about what Amanda said, she’s just talking out her arse as per usual.”

I nodded and she flashed me a smile, her teeth a bright white against her olive skin, before making her way out towards the backdoors.

To fulfil my own part of the bargain, I murmured something about popping to the loo to Oliver and then slipped past to make my way through the crowd to exit through the front.

Emerging outside I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness and then scanned the cascading steps for any sign of my wayward relative. There were some people dotted about, a couple of them smoking, others taking advantage of the dark to engage in some pashing, but none of them was Maxxie. I was about to head off to the right to check round the side of the building when I heard the familiar rumbling roar of Alex’s borrowed motorbike and, sure enough, in the next second Alex appeared on the gravel drive, helmet-less with someone riding behind him.

He turned off the road and drove through the trees over to the left so I changed direction, a sinking feeling in my gut telling me exactly where Maxxie had disappeared off to. Bloody typical.

Slipping off my heeled shoes to stop them getting covered in dust and grass, I left them sitting primly on the steps and padded my way over to where I’d seen the motorcycle disappear.

You could have knocked me over with a feather when, emerging through the trees shielding them, I saw Alex and Maxxie standing together laughing and looking as comfortable with each other as, well, Alex and I were. Instantly stamping down on the tiniest worm of jealousy that reared its ugly head and pointed out to me how much I would’ve liked to have been the person he’d escaped on a motorcycle with, I forced myself to walk forward.

“Oh shit,” Maxxie swore, her face instantly clouding over as she saw me, “Not you.”

Charming.

I avoided looking at Alex, too furious to be able to deal with him in front of Maxxie, but I could feel him watching me and the sensation made my skin buzz.

“Could you go back inside, please?” I asked Maxxie, trying to keep my voice pleasant, but acknowledging a definite layer of steel as soon as I spoke.

“No, I’m talking to Alex.” She folded her arms mutinously and, for the briefest second, I wished I’d been as cocksure as that at her age.

I wasn’t her age any longer, however, and I was getting more than sick of her attitude so I fixed her with my sternest expression and said crisply,

“My mother is looking for you and, trust me when I say, it’s better that you find her than wait around for her to find you.”

My logic was undeniable and I could see the realisation hit Maxxie like a water balloon to the face. Looking unhappily back at Alex she muttered, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“You bet.” He gave her a quick little nod and then, without further acknowledgement of my existence, she stalked past me and out towards the hall leaving me alone with Alex.

It was only then that I finally allowed myself to look at him properly and he sighed as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jeans.

“I know that look,” He said.

“What look?” I asked, my tone still stuck on ‘icy’.

“The ‘you’re an idiot, Alex’ look.” His grey eyes were dappled by the moonlight through the trees, but I could still see that he was looking at me intently, as if trying to read my mind, “What have I done this time?”

I scoffed, was he serious? “Oh, come on!” I protested, “You deliberately bait everyone at the Christmas party, then roar off on a motorbike with a 14 year old after having drunk Bridunna punch and without wearing a helmet and you expect me to believe you don’t know why you’re getting the ‘you’re an idiot’ look?”

“The ‘deliberate baiting’ stuff, yeah I’ll put my hand up to that,” He said, his voice a few degrees colder than it had been before, “Although just standing in a room full of those psychos is tantamount to baiting so it’s not exactly like I went in there and started poking everyone with a cattle prod. But as for the rest of it,” He shook his head, his jaw tightening into a hard line, “I barely had half a cup of the punch so I was well below the limit and I wasn’t wearing the helmet because Maxxie was.”

He turned to shove the helmet in question down onto the motorbike and then whirled around to demand, “And what the fuck does it matter that she’s 14?”

I simply looked at him until realisation dawned and he swore viciously.

“So, what? Now I’m a paedophile?”

I recoiled from the way he said it so bluntly and shook my head. That hadn’t been what I’d meant, just that people would find it odd and tongues would start wagging as they always did. When he clearly didn’t realise that I forced myself to articulate it,

“That’s not what I’m saying,”

“So what are you saying?” He moved closer, pushing past the normal boundaries of personal space until our minimal distance from each other could pretty much only be described as intimate.

Forced to look up to maintain eye contact with him, I found myself momentarily speechless which gave him the opportunity to add,

“You don’t always have to think the worst of me, you know.”

Swallowing to get some moisture back into my mouth I forced myself to reply, “You don’t make it easy.”

There was a loaded pause as we continued to gaze at each other, my heart quickening like the traitor it was.

After some time his eyes left mine and slid slowly down my body, making my chest clench and my breathing stutter out of rhythm. With his head bent, his forehead almost touched mine and I could feel his warm breath across my cheek.

“You’re not wearing any shoes,” His voice was hoarse and, as he lifted his head back up, I saw that there was a small upward tilt to his lips.

I had no reply to that, but he didn’t seem to require one as something else caught his eye and he reached up to pluck out the small sprig of holly I’d tucked into my hair earlier in the evening.

“Barefoot and with twigs in your hair on the most important day of the Bridunna social calendar,” There was definite amusement in his voice now, “What would your mother say?”

It was like being slapped across the face with a cold flannel drenched in vinegar. I jerked back from him, my face flooding with heat as I imagined what could have happened if my mum or, God forbid, Oliver had come out here looking for me and found me pressed up against Alex like that.

How dare I whine and complain about people not giving me a chance if I allowed myself to be put in a situation like this?

Stupid, stupid Grace.

It was especially humiliating as there I’d been with ragged breathing and a wildly fluttering heart and there was no way in hell he would have been feeling anything similar. Lucky old Alex, always the cool one, always the one in control while I pathetically had to reign myself in whenever he got too close.

“G?” He asked, obviously watching me have my mini freak out.

“No,” I said firmly, not really knowing what I meant by that, but sure it was the right thing to say anyway. “Just no, Alex.”

I turned and started to walk away from him, my feet picking up speed as I was overwhelmed by a desire to get back to the hall, to safety away from old, redundant feelings.

Bursting through the tree line the first thing I saw was Oliver standing on the steps, my shoes in his hands.

“Hey Cinderella,” He smiled as he saw me coming towards him, “Where did you get to?”

Ignoring his question, I flew up the steps to him and, when I was on the same level, threw my arms around his neck, kissing him. His lips were soft and warm and I pressed my whole body against his, seeking comfort and reassurance. My shoes dropped to the steps with a clatter and then his arms came around me, lifting me up close until I was standing on my tiptoes.

“What was that for?” He laughed breathlessly when we finally pulled away from one another.

“Abandoning you again,” I reached up to press another quick kiss against the corner of his mouth before stepping back. “I’m sorry for doing that, I was looking for Maxxie,” I bent down for my shoes, not wanting to look at him as I spoke my half lie.

“She’s inside, I saw her on my way out here telling your mum that she’d just been tucked away into the back corner of the hall,” He assured me, “You must’ve just missed her in the crowd.”

I couldn’t help my little smile. “Silly me then,” I said dismissively, “Come on, let’s go back inside.” I slipped my hand into his and he gave it a fond squeeze before leading me back up towards the doors.

Despite my very, very best intentions, just before we went inside I couldn’t help sneaking a quick look back.

I saw him instantly.

Alex was sitting astride his motorbike on the middle of the wide road, his head turned towards me. Seeing me looking, however, he turned away, slammed his helmet down over his head and roared off, a big cloud of gravel and dust churned up in his wake.

And good riddance! I thought crossly before storming off inside; determining to spend the rest of the evening thoroughly testing whether the potent Bridunna punch really was as bad as I thought it was.

End Note

It took me a little while to get this one out. I got stuck midway through and couldn’t see my way out. Thankfully inspiration struck today and here we are, a new chapter.

In my keenness to get this up, I’m very sorry to report I won’t be replying individually to reviews as I usually do, but massive thanks go to: surroundedANDalone, BubbleHeaded, I Murder on Impulse, FanDanny, 11Katie15 (rock on accrual versus cash!), Lauranthalsala, XxRealGirlxX, sunshinernnr (I’m trying to make sure this story stands on its own so you should be off the rereading SMtL hook!), IndigoGrapefruit, naadz (definitely an ongoing story), Rhapsody's Song, Tetelestai, , ess3sandra, Randomisation, Dynamene, Demi Dea (Brooke is Alex’s friend who works in the bar with him and is his sometimes bedmate…!), FutureWriter, romanceistheish, southernxnz, lolly, clear skye, OoohLookACat (haha, Team Alex? Bring on the teams!), It's A Margarita, Chryse (please see other note about character pictures, cheers!), abmoreland, Any, asianinvasion0530, Brielle Gemson, make this mistake, hezja, dwpea, Avenging Fury, quotata, DaylightMoon, sukanya (yeah, Brooke is Alex’s friend from the city. Bit more Desi in the chapter for you!), MistressBlack852, summers-end (‘bunny boiler’ is in reference to the film Fatal Attraction within which a spurned woman gets her revenge on her ex-lover by boiling his family pet rabbit in a pot of water. It’s kind of just a term for obsessive, dangerous love that will go badly if the couple break up. Hope that explains it!), chng234, Pop the Bubble, and Enigmatic Night. You’re all amazingly fantastic and I appreciate your feedback so much.

A few people have been asking there are character pictures to go with this story and I’m sorry to say there’s not. I honestly have tried to find photos to match these characters, but I’ve failed miserably. That being said, I’d love if anyone else had seen a picture that they thought looked like one of the characters and if anyone has any suggestions of celebrities that would match it’d be great to know. I suppose it comes down to it being such a personal thing, everyone pictures characters differently and I guess maybe I’m too picky as well.

Oh, and don’t be disturbed by the chapter name! Apparently ‘Thou Shalt Always Kill’ is supposed to be in regards to ‘killing it’ on stage, being awesome, giving it your all, etc. Mostly I just love this song, there were so many lines I wanted to highlight, like: ‘Thou shalt not use poetry, art or music to get into girls' pants. Use it to get into their heads.’ Or ‘Thou shalt give equal worth to tragedies that occur in non-English speaking countries as to those that occur in English speaking countries. Thou shalt remember that guns, bitches and bling were never part of the four elements and never will be.’ Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip are very awesome indeed.

One more tiny thing, I know this note is getting massively long, but I finally got to address the ‘why aren’t Talia and Jack married?’ point in this chapter. I get asked this a fair bit, so I hope the answer makes sense.

Thanks so much for reading.

Cheers, Jess/star123