Death's Door. Meryl Sawyer

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СКАЧАТЬ thanks.’

      ‘What can I get you?’

      ‘Um … er …’ Nicola frantically searched the menu for something remotely appetising.

      ‘Something to drink while you decide?’ ‘Do you have a wine list?’

      ‘There’s probably one somewhere around here,’ Tiffany said, ducking down behind the bar. It didn’t bode well.

      ‘Don’t worry, I’ll just have a beer thanks.’

      ‘Hey Tiff,’ a loud voice called from around the corner. ‘Dry argument around ‘ere luv.’

      ‘Come on,’ another called.

      ‘Just bloody hang on,’ Tiffany muttered, thumping the glass in front of Nicola and accepting her money.

      Nicola had been staring at the menu a full minute when a voice next to her said, ‘The toasted sandwiches are the closest thing you’ll get to sustenance.’

      ‘Thanks,’ she said, turning. She frowned; the dark features were a little familiar, but from where she wasn’t sure. ‘Have we met?’

      The guy smirked. ‘Yep.’

      ‘When?’

      ‘Oh, about three hours ago,’ he said, looking at his watch.

      Nicola blushed furiously as she realised he was her flight companion – the one who’d held the sick bag for her – the one whose hand she’d held. Oh my God, she silently groaned, could the day get any worse?

      ‘Um, I’m really sorry about all that,’ she muttered, waving an arm casually, feeling anything but casual.

      ‘Alex. Even though we’ve already been somewhat intimate, it’s a pleasure to meet you,’ he laughed, thrusting his hand at her.

      ‘Nicola, highly embarrassed,’ she mumbled, shaking hands.

      ‘Ah, don’t be.’

      ‘Right, can I get you anything to eat?’ Tiffany asked, reappearing. ‘The ham and cheese toasted sandwiches are almost edible,’ she offered.

      ‘Great, I’ll have one thanks,’ Nicola said. ‘Care for a game of pool?’ Alex asked.

      Why the hell not? Nicola thought. Things could only get better.

Chapter Nine

      Nicola scowled at the crude sketch of the hotel motel in cream on the gleaming chocolate brown plastic placemat. Despite scanning the Yellow Pages and finding a caravan park the only other option, she was still in denial. Surely there was somewhere else to stay.

      She was also in denial about the amount she’d had to drink. Disconnected images flickered through her mind, vague and grainy like an old silent movie. It couldn’t have been the drink – the ham must have been off.

      ‘Good morning.’ It was Tiffany from the night before.

      The kid was sweet enough but far too bloody cheery when one was suffering a hangover and stiff back. Nicola glowered in response.

      ‘Bread, butter and spreads over there by the toaster, cereal and milk on the table, plates and cutlery on the bench,’ Tiffany rambled. ‘Help yourself,’ she added. ‘Can I get you a coffee, or perhaps you’d rather a tea? I’ve just put a pot on.’

      ‘Coffee, thanks.’ As Tiffany bounded away, Nicola wondered if the pot she’d referred to was for tea, and instantly regretted her request. In her experience coffee that came in a pot was rarely drinkable.

      Maybe there was a coffee machine hiding out in some back room and it wouldn’t be so bad. She hoped so, because the only thing she could see making her feel better was a decent latte or three.

      She got up for a closer inspection of the breakfast offerings. The cereals were all in little boxes, brightly adorned to attract the attention of children. She sighed and stuck two pieces of grain bread into the nearby toaster, more for something to do to pass the time.

      Nicola stared at the toast she’d just cooked. It looked about as nutritious as cement. Tiffany appeared beside her and put down a tray with a plain white mug of inky black coffee, a small ceramic jug of milk and a matching bowl of white sugar.

      ‘Thanks,’ Nicola said, and set about doctoring her coffee. Fingers crossed.

      She took a tentative sip and almost dropped the cup as her tongue was burnt. She put the mug back on the table with a grimace. ‘Sorry, is it too hot?’ Tiffany asked. ‘Not your fault.’

      The beverage’s temperature was the least of its shortcomings, but Nicola curbed her desire to point out its flaws. It was bitter, watery, and had almost no depth of flavour. Could it actually be the worst cup she’d ever tasted? It was a little hard to tell now that she’d burnt the taste buds off her tongue. Bad or not, she thought, it is caffeine; a vital ingredient for the treatment of the common hangover. She lifted the cup again and took a couple more sips.

      Nicola put the mug down and looked at Tiffany who was still hovering – why, she had no idea.

      ‘Tiffany. Um, is there a B&B anywhere nearby, or maybe a …?’

      Tiffany looked mortified. ‘No offence, it’s just that …’

      ‘We may not be all the frills floral but we’re clean and comfortable,’ Tiffany said defiantly.

      ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to …’ Nicola began.

      ‘Anyway, there is nowhere else,’ Tiffany said.

      Nicola wanted to know if the pun was intended, but was far too peeved to give Tiffany the upper hand by praising her wit.

      As she stared at her mug, weighing up its drinkability versus her desperation, Nicola felt a slow sinking feeling take hold. If there was no B&B, did that mean there was no day spa either? It was all too awful to contemplate.

      ‘Is there by any chance a day spa nearby, or a masseuse?’ Nicola asked hesitantly.

      Tiffany thought for a moment. ‘Well, there’s an old retired shearer does a bit of work on the footy players.’ Nicola stared at her, horrified.

      Taking great joy in Nicola’s obvious discomfort, she chuckled. ‘Though I’m guessing that’s not quite what you’re after.’

      ‘Could it get any worse?’ Nicola mumbled, thinking aloud. She laid her head on her arms on the table.

      Nicola was wondering just what the town did have to offer when Tiffany again materialised at her side and dumped a wad of photocopied and glossy brochures beside her.

      ‘This place might not have all the city finery but we’re an honest, down-to-earth bunch of good people who do our best with what we have,’ she said a little indignantly.

      Tiffany СКАЧАТЬ