Jealous Storm by Jack Stroke (classic literature books TXT) 📗

and tell you where to put your stuff. Or I wouldn’t if I was ever invited in.”

“Look, I know you won’t tell me or can’t or whatever, but let’s just say Megan does have a new man. It would certainly explain all the messaging. But how is that something she can use against me?”

“Are you talking at me or to yourself?”

“We’re having a discussion.”

“Sure about that? Look, I get this is hard to believe, but maybe it has nothing to do with you, kid.”

“Didn’t you see how pleased with herself she was? It’s about me. It so is.”

Vaughan shook his head. “Aren’t you and Meg friends?”

Amber waved him off, thinking.

“You’re exhausting. I’m going for a swim.”

She let him go. He wasn’t helping anyway.

Amber spent the remainder of the day thinking about it (or more accurately obsessing) and getting precisely nowhere. It made no sense. Surely Megan having a new man was good for everybody. Amber only wanted Megan to be happy. Evening arrived with no answers. They borrowed Grubby’s car for the trip to the Half. Like the man himself, the vehicle had a distinct odour problem.

“You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Not unusual. You always look nice.”

“Aww, Vaughan. You say the sweetest things.”

The car puttered along the quiet road.

“Worried I’m not going to smell nice though. End up smelling like Grubby. Or worse, get this scent stuck in my nose and be smelling it for the next few days.”

“Nice of Grubs to let us use his car.”

“It is.”

He shot her a glance and grinned. “Back to being Chill Amber, ’eh?”

“Back to?”

“You’re like a pendulum, kid. You totally overreact to something, and then you remember you’re supposed to be Chill Amber.”

“I always forget you’re perfect, Vaughan. I wish you would teach me how sometime.”

He smirked. “Aha. I’m right then.”

“Right?”

“Sure. You only bite back when I’m right.” He put a hand on her knee. It took every ounce of control for Amber not to rip it off. “I’m messing with you, kid. I think you’re doing great.”

“Both hands on the wheel, please.”

He left his hand on her knee. In fairness, she couldn’t imagine him driving any other way. Both hands on the wheel wouldn’t suit Vaughan’s persona at all.

“Why wouldn’t I be Chill Amber? A nice dinner at the Half with friends. What’s not to enjoy?”

As it turned out, and much to her surprise, Amber’s sarcastic comment turned out to be correct. They entered and found Megan by herself. No new man. And in pretty good form. Amber kept waiting for something. Whatever it was. Nothing eventuated. They had a pleasant evening, the three of them. Talking and laughing, the other two drinking. Maybe Amber had misjudged the situation. There was no surprise. No gotcha moment. Megan was her friend. She wasn’t out to get her.

They ordered some food, Amber letting her guard down. Happy and content. And just as she was sitting there, thinking how wrong she was, a voice behind startled her. Still familiar after all these years.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late. How we all doing tonight?”

Every muscle in Amber’s body tensed.

“Ellis?”

She was being set up, and it was worse than she ever could have imagined.

19

Twenty years earlier

Amber grabbed Megan by the hair. The two of them were rolling around on the lounge room floor at McKinnon Road. A single thought replayed again and again in Amber’s mind. Pain. She wanted to hurt Megan. Physically hurt her like she had never hurt anybody before. Inflict serious pain. Of course, she had no idea how to do that. She hadn’t been in a physical fight since that time at school with Kylie Smith and that had primarily been ineffectual slapping. But… Megan’s hair… that could work. Except Megan had the exact same idea.

“Typical,” she groaned. “Can’t even think up… your own… fight moves.”

Fight moves? Was that the correct term?

“Oooh, good one, loser.”

The fighting intensified in vigour if not results. It was a stalemate, each with a handful of hair, the other hand flailing wildly. Neither was dressed for a fight, their skirts and tops riding up and getting in the way.

The light flashed on. Joan bustled in.

“Girls, girls! Stop it. What are you doing? Stop it.”

They didn’t, ignoring the older woman. Joan’s attempts to separate them were about as successful as the fighting. And then suddenly Amber and Megan were soaking wet. It was a circuit breaker.

“Mum,” Megan said. “Did you just throw water on us?”

Joan stood there with a now-empty vase. A pile of flowers layered her feet.

“Something had to stop you. Now, what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” Megan said, pulling herself to her feet. “She’s just being a cow.”

“Takes want to know one.”

“Good comeback, Amber.”

Megan stumbled, standing almost as challenging as fighting.

“Oh, girls. How much have you had to drink?”

“Don’t start, Mum.” She burped loudly and staggered off towards her bedroom.

Later Joan and Amber sat on the front porch surrounded by Joan’s herb garden and many pot plants.

“Sorry, Joan. I hope we didn’t wake Pablo too.”

Joan waved her off. “That man could sleep through World War Three. What happened? You two were so happy when you left.”

If she concentrated hard, Amber could stop the world spinning, at least for a little bit. “She can just be mean sometimes, you know?”

“Megan? She was born mean. What happened this time?”

“I went to the bathroom and she sat on his knee.”

“Whose knee?”

“Marcus told me.”

“Amber, I have no idea what you are talking about.

“We were at Phillip’s party. His twenty-first.”

“I don’t know Phillip.”

“We don’t know him very well either, so we didn’t know many people there. Probably drank too quickly because of it. Anyway, I was talking to this really cute guy.”

“Oh, Amber… Please tell me this isn’t over some boy.”

“You don’t understand, Joan.”

“I think I do.”

“No, it’s Megan. She doesn’t have to do… The guy liked me. We were talking all night. And then I went to the bathroom. Marcus told me as soon as I left, she sat on his knee. Like, there were plenty of guys there. She just