Hold On to Me (27 page)

‘Who the fuck is that?' Luca whispered as his hands tightened protectively around her hips. Stella patted his hands to indicate she was okay.

‘It's my friend Courtney. Constable Courtney. Please just stay here.'

‘The fuck I'm staying here.'

‘No,' she said as she pushed him into the car seat—though she loved that his instinct was to protect her, even if she didn't need protecting from anyone but herself. ‘Please.' Stella wriggled off his lap before crawling indecorously across the back seat to the open door. She got out of the car and gingerly stepped to the side of the road, careful of the gravel and the prickles on her bare feet.

Courtney aimed the flashlight onto the ground and Stella looked down; her painted red toenails suddenly looked cheap against the dirt.

‘I'm so sorry, Stella,' Courtney whispered. ‘We had a call about a car acting suspiciously and I was on my way back from Goolwa so I took a detour to see what was going on. I thought you were a couple of underage kids.'

Stella sighed, put her hands on her hips and looked up to the sky, and a million stars blinked back at her, each one a witness to her shame. ‘This is so embarrassing, Courtney.'

Courtney flicked the light to Stella's face, which made her flinch.

‘Oh heck, sorry. Didn't mean to blind you.' She cocked her head back to the car. ‘That the young guy? The one who worked on your shop?'

Stella nodded. Everyone at the New Year's Eve party had seen them kissing so there was no point in denying it.

Courtney grinned. ‘You go, girl. He's hot.' Then she stood upright, put on her professional demeanour once again. ‘Well. I'll leave you to it. I suggest you go home and do it old school.'

‘Believe me, that's exactly where we're going.' Stella hugged herself tight. The wind had picked up and she was suddenly cold, the breeze whipping up her bare legs to her throbbing thighs. Stella knew the darkness was hiding her flushed cheeks, but she had to say it to her friend. ‘I swear, Courtney. This was a spur of the moment thing. I don't usually … I've never …'

Courtney rested a hand on her friend's shoulder. ‘Stella, don't worry. It's not a crime to have sex with a hot guy, you know.'

Stella managed to laugh through her embarrassment. This could have been worse, she told herself. One of the other local cops—the male, middle-aged ones—could have been tasked here instead. ‘Guilty as charged. God, we're not being charged, are we?' she whispered.

Courtney set off for her police car. ‘Get home safe.' And then she nudged the torch under her chin so Stella could see her face. She winked. ‘And I hoped you used a condom. That's not cop advice, that's friend advice.'

Stella waved weakly at the joke and didn't want to tell Courtney that she hadn't. How stupid was that? More stupid than acting like a horny teenager? It was hard to judge. She watched the police vehicle disappear at the end of the dirt road before walking back to the car, grit embedding itself in the soles of her feet. Luca was behind the steering wheel, clenching it and bowing his head slightly in her direction. She felt his gaze on her as she got in. She angrily rubbed the stones and dirt from her feet and slipped her shoes on before clipping her seatbelt.

‘So. Are we arrested?'

Stella tried not to laugh. If this hadn't been so mortifying it would be hilarious. ‘No.'

Luca's face almost split in a grin. ‘I have to thank you. That's one thing ticked off my bucket list: be caught having sex in public.'

Stella dropped her hands and turned to Luca. He
was
starting to laugh. And it caught her. It rumbled up inside her, first as a giggle, then a snort and then a belly laugh so hard she ached. When Luca joined her, pounding the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, his booming, deep laughter filling the cabin, his happy and conspiratorial eyes turned to her, Stella wondered if maybe it was the best night of her life, after all.

The sun was bright and already fierce in the sky when Stella walked up The Strand a couple of mornings later. She grabbed a takeaway coffee and a copy of the
Southern Gazette
, hoping to have a sneaky read and to check on the placement of her latest ad before her first customers began arriving. She unlocked the shop, looked around and marvelled again at her good fortune, and put the newspaper and coffee on the front counter near the till. Once she'd locked her handbag away in a cupboard in the storeroom, she pulled up a stool, took the first welcoming sip of her double espresso and settled in to read the front-page story.

It was another exclusive by editor Joe Blake about community opposition to a proposed high-rise development in Victor Harbor, and next to it was a story about the local cricket competition and a photo of one of the star young players. Stella relaxed into the morning and let those feelings of good fortune wash over her once again.

Five weeks earlier, she hadn't had a shop. Or a man. And now, Style by Stella was thriving and she'd had Luca Morelli in her bed for the past two nights. She was still recovering from all the sex. There was something to be said for young men, it was true. Young and tall men in particular. After being discovered in his truck on New Year's Eve, they'd driven like maniacs back to her house in Port Elliot and begun all over again. The excitement of being caught seemed to make them hotter for each other than Stella thought possible and one night had turned into two—Luca had kind of forgotten to leave. She'd also kind of forgotten to ask him to go. So he'd stayed. They'd made love at night and he'd waved goodbye to her from her bed when she'd walked off to the shop. He'd made a habit of wandering down about ten-thirty with a takeaway coffee for her and staying for a chat, before walking to Horseshoe Bay and having a swim, which also had the effect of topping up his tan. When she'd got home the night before, he'd still tasted of salt and sun and she'd dragged him to the bedroom before dinner.

It had never been like this, this summer fling she was having with him. It didn't feel complicated. Her heart seemed to be winning the battle. They didn't talk about what it was or wasn't. Neither of them felt the need to define it. It was good and that was all she needed.

Stella had stopped trying to justify it. She knew, simply, that she was happy when she was with Luca. Not that she hadn't had happy times without him. She had so much to be grateful for. She was grateful to swim at Horseshoe Bay. For the long walks she took at Middle Point, her childhood playground. She was grateful when she made a customer happy and that she worked surrounded by beautiful things. She was grateful for her red lipstick when she slicked it on her mouth and for the fact that it perfectly matched her fingernail polish. She was grateful to have such wonderful friends. When she became lost in a book or a Scorsese film. When Mouse greeted her with a leg rub when she walked in her door at the end of a long day.

So, so much to be thankful for. Her cup was not only full: it was overflowing and spilling down the front of her designer shirt.

She wasn't simply grateful for Luca.

It was more than that.

When she was with him, even when she thought of him, Stella was hit by a lightness, as if she'd inhaled helium and was a balloon floating high above the ground. When she was with him, she lived with a joyously pounding heart and a head full of things she wanted to tell him. Knowing she was going to be spending time with him was the most wonderful feeling on earth because she knew she would have him, all of him. She would have him, not just his body, but his mind and his laugh and his voice and his rapt attention.

And she had all of it when she was with him. What was it about her desire for him that made her feel so selfish? She didn't want to share him with anybody; she wanted to keep him all to herself. When she'd closed up the shop at night, they could easily have driven to the Middle Point pub and caught up with their friends, but they didn't. Stella had given Summer the brush-off when she invited her to Victor Harbor for a drink after work. She wanted to be in her bubble of lust with Luca. She didn't know how long it would last, but she could stay there until it burst, with no regrets.

A gust of wind blew in with a customer and tinkled the bells on the Christmas tree. Stella was about to turn over the front page of the newspaper but looked up.

‘Good morning,' she said and even she could hear the dreamy happiness in her voice. ‘Let me know if I can help you with anything.'

‘Thanks,' said the woman, maybe just thirty, pushing a stroller.

Stella smiled, her secret retail superpower kicking in. ‘I've just unpacked some new jelly flats, over there by the mirror. They're super comfortable and, being plastic, you can rinse anything off.'

The woman smiled and manoeuvred her stroller to the display and Stella turned her attention back to the paper; she would have only a minute more because she knew in her gut that Young Mum was going to buy those flat sandals.

When she saw the headline on page three, she almost sprayed the entire contents of her mouth across the open newspaper. All the air escaped her lungs in a whoosh and she couldn't seem to get any back in—if this wasn't a panic attack, it was the next worst thing. There, right alongside the traditional photo of happy families at Warland Reserve enjoying the Victor Harbor fireworks, was the story.

It was only a headline and four sentences, but it was enough.

Middle-aged couple warned by police over sex in public

Local police say they had a complaint from neighbours on New Year's Eve of some suspicious activity in a known lovers' lane at Middle Point.

The neighbours, who claim to be sick and tired of the spot being used late at night, made the call just after midnight when a truck pulled up in the deserted spot.

Police say they warned the couple, who quickly left the scene.

No charges were laid, according to local officers.

Stella's lungs burnt with humiliation and the newspaper shook in her hands. She couldn't pick what was worse. The description of her as being middle-aged or the sex-in-public part. And the juxtaposition of the story, set right up against the happy family snap, made the whole thing even more humiliating and sordid. Thank god they hadn't used her name. She closed the front page to block out the words and tried to get her breath.

A million questions swam around in her head. Had Courtney joked about it with her colleagues when she got back to the station? And had Courtney described her as ‘middle-aged'? Did Joe know it was her and Luca and was he holding back on using their names because they were almost but not quite related? Did the whole south coast know?

‘I'll have these, thanks.' Stella hadn't noticed Young Mum standing in front of her.

‘Oh, sure. They're fab, aren't they? Such great shoes for summer.' Stella tried to concentrate on the transaction and then slipped the sandals into a brown paper bag. On the side was proudly stamped
Style by Stella
. The words taunted her. She handed over the bag and hoped like hell that the expression on her face was a smile.

‘How old's your baby?'

‘Six months.' Young Mum smiled ruefully. ‘I adore those heels in the window but I don't know when I'll ever have the chance to wear them again.'

‘You will. One day. Thanks for stopping by.'

Young Mum waved and left.

Stella hurriedly turned back to page three. This was a nightmare. She was Style by Stella. Being caught by the police having sex in a truck with a younger man in a “known lovers' lane” was not in the slightest bit stylish. It was tacky and cheap and low-rent. It was her childhood. It was everything about her parents.

It was everything she'd been running from her whole life.

Her mobile rang. She glanced down at the display. Courtney. She had to get some answers and speaking directly to the source might help her. She swiped her phone to accept the call and found enough pride to answer with a steady voice. ‘Hello, Courtney.'

‘Oh, Stella, I'm so sorry.' Her friend sounded on the verge of tears. ‘Please believe me. We didn't leak it, I promise.'

Stella tried not to get angry with her friend. She lowered her voice to a fierce whisper. ‘How else could the paper find out about this then? I don't understand.'

‘I've checked it out from my end,' Courtney said with venom. ‘It's those grumpy bloody miserable neighbours. They're always complaining about teenagers having sex in their cars in that spot, as if somehow the teens around here are the first young people in the world to ever have sex in a car. Anyway, so when I got back to the station, I told the boss that it wasn't teenagers after all, but an older couple, and he reported that back to the neighbours. And then they called the
Gazette
to complain that it's becoming a place where everyone now seems to be bonking and it went on from there. The boss had to give the paper some information, but we kept it as basic as we could. Stupid stickybeaks.'

Stella tried to find some calm. ‘I appreciate it, Courtney. It's just … it was just a little bit of a shock, that's all.'

‘No one knows it was you, I promise. I had to report it in when I got back to the station but I swear I didn't give anyone your name or even say I knew you.'

Stella sighed with relief. So only three people knew the truth. Her, Luca and Courtney. ‘I believe you.'

‘God, people can be so … Why on earth should anyone care if two people are having sex on a quiet dirt road in the backblocks of Middle Point? I mean, really?'

Stella covered the mouthpiece of her mobile with her hand. ‘Good morning,' she said to a new customer, ‘let me know if you need any help.' The middle-aged woman nodded and smiled and went off to the shoe section.
Middle-aged
. Stella shivered and mentally kicked herself. She would never, ever use that expression again for anyone.