Selling the Drama Read online

  Just as Ian prophesied, something had indeed come up. Toby was too relieved to do anything more than accept her at face value.

  "You want to sell all of the properties?"

  Toby nodded.

  The solicitor bore an expression that looked comical, his disbelief was so evident. "Two of the houses are historical buildings. They've been in your family for generations."

  Toby turned his face up to study the ceiling, scanning the ornate cornices. His eyes came to rest on a spider's web in the corner. He watched as the spider deftly stalked the prey it had ensnared within its web, binding the fly for later, its mission accomplished. The fly should have been more strategic. The trap was such an obvious one. Perhaps that was the point. The spider was the higher species here. The spider could not ever be outwitted, so why try? Returning his gaze back to the solicitor, he nodded once more.

  "You can't legally make this decision now anyway. We'll seal the houses up and revisit your plans when you're in full control of your estate." The solicitor looked back down at the papers in front of him, shuffling and frowning all the while. He was old, had been a personal friend of his grandfather, as well as their family solicitor for all time. He was familiar to Toby in a way few people were. Perhaps this situation was affecting him on a personal level in some way. Seeing the family of his old friend reduced to such depravation.

  "When will I be legally old enough?" He kept his voice low and respectful. This solicitor was now an important person in his life. It would pay to not piss him off, or give him any reason to question Toby's maturity and intelligence.

  The solicitor met Toby's eyes once more, his kindness evident. "You will have full control when you turn twenty one. Of course, all of your living expenses will be met up until then, educational fees, whatever you need. An allowance will be paid to your guardian, but she will have no access to any part of the estate. I've set up an account for your immediate use and arranged for a monthly transfer to take place. You'll have more than enough for anything you might need. If you do find yourself needing more, just give me a call. I'll take care of the life insurance claim for your mother. You don't have to concern yourself with that."

  "I wasn't." Toby swallowed deeply. "But, thank you. I appreciate your assistance." He stared at the solicitor, weighing his next question carefully, wondering if he really even wanted to know. Frowning, he asked, "Did you know? Did you ever suspect?" He couldn't bring himself to elaborate any further than that.

  The solicitor took off his glasses and sat back. He stared at Toby for a long moment. "I never liked your father. He was too polished." Pausing, he rested his fingers beneath his chin, a thoughtful expression upon his face. "Tell me, Toby, what do you think of this woman, this 'godmother' of yours? How do you feel about being placed into her care?"

  Toby stared right back at him. "I think it's ideal. A new town in a whole different state. I can't think of a better outcome."

  Now no one would ever have to know anything about him at all.

  Her name was Iris Blackwell. She knew enough about the whole sorry situation to not ask him for details. He appreciated her consideration and her inclination towards silence. It was refreshing to be around a person who didn't have the urge to talk all the time.

  She drove them to Melbourne in a hire car, where they then caught a plane to Brisbane. From there, they caught another plane to Cairns, but this one stopped at three other towns along the way, the flight becoming one long drawn out expedition that Toby feared might never end. When they finally did arrive, it was to emerge out into a world that was blindingly bright, the air warm and so heavy with moisture, Toby instantly felt uncomfortable in his heavy southern clothes.

  Iris seemed to be assessing him as he looked around in wonder. "The weather sure is something else up here. Takes a bit of getting used to. The moisture in the air; it's like breathing through a wet washer some days. Took me awhile to get over it when I first moved up here as well. If you haven't got enough summer gear, I'll take you shopping tomorrow." She put her hand down onto his shoulder then, lightly, as though she were being careful not to scare him off with too much familiarity. "You're going to be okay here. I promise you, everything is going to be alright."

  Her eyes were a bright blue and they crinkled in the corners as she smiled at him. She looked like the very image of a mother, as ridiculous as that seemed, yet there was a relaxed and homey beauty to her that had been distinctly absent within his own mother. If he could have sunk into her, rested his head against her chest, and felt her heart beat against his cheek, he would have. Right here, right now. But that would have been weird, and not only because he didn't know her; he was simply just too old for that shit.

  At last he found his voice. "I don't want people to know about me. About what happened." It was the most he had said to her since their first meeting back at the police station.

  She nodded, her gaze now filled with sympathy, her face reflecting a deep understanding for what he was asking. "My husband and daughter already know, but we can keep it within the family. We'll tell everyone else they died in an accident. Nothing more needs to be said than that. It's nobody else's business." Iris dropped her hand from his shoulder and pointed towards the terminal. "Look, over there. See that man, the tall one with the cowboy hat? The one with his arm around the girl with brown hair? That's my family. Royce and Charlotte."

  His gaze followed the direction of her hand, easily spotting the couple she was pointing out.

  "Charlotte is a few months younger than you. You'll be able to go to school together." Iris increased her pace while she spoke, as though she couldn't wait to reach her family now that they were within sight.

  Hoisting his backpack higher up onto his shoulder, Toby fell into step beside her, sweating profusely within thirty seconds of moving. The heat was drenching. No wonder everybody had nothing but thongs and board shorts with a singlet on. You'd die from the humidity otherwise. When they reached the terminal, Iris dropped her bag and embraced her husband in a manner that was slightly embarrassing to behold. He slid his gaze away, shoving his hands into his pockets, glancing around the airport which was significantly smaller than the one in Melbourne, and even Brisbane.

  "Far out, you must be boiling! Was it cold in Melbourne or are you just one of those skater homey freaks who like to overdress for attention?" The voice was filled with sarcastic humour and had a musical lilt to it that drew his attention like nothing ever before. A cascade of images flashed through his mind: a butterfly trapped under a glass; honey dripping off a spoon; the sun kissing his skin on a lazy hot afternoon.

  She stood before him, in shorts so unbelievably short they surely challenged the very definition of the word and a crop top that showed an awesome amount of flesh, along with a ring pierced through her belly, flashing evocatively and constantly drawing his eye. Her smile was wide and pretty, dimples in both cheeks and skin devoid of a single blemish, with braces on what looked like already straight teeth. Her hair was long and dark brown, pulled up into a high pony tail. Her eyes were brown also. Toby was aware he was standing before her like a mute, but seriously, he was going to live with this girl? Possibly share a bathroom with her? Get to look at her every single day from here on in? Swallowing deeply, the teenager within him roared to life and he grinned at her, taking note of the way her eyes widened with interest as he did so.

  Things were looking up. Things were so, very definitely, looking up for him.

  Charlotte felt intensely sorry for Toby. His situation brought her to tears. The horror; it was bigger than anything she'd ever had to wrap her head around before. But the knowledge that he didn't want anyone to know about what had happened to his parents kept her sympathy in check for those first few days. He didn't say much, just seemed wary and unable to relax. She supposed that being forced to move to the opposite end of the country to live with strangers you knew nothing about couldn't be helping him much either.

  Given there were only two weeks left of school befor
e the September holidays, Iris had allowed Toby to stay home, announcing it would be better for him to start school at the beginning of the next term. Despite being already sixteen, he was going to be in the same grade as her, the ages and grades down south differing to what they followed in Queensland.

  They didn't see each other a whole lot over those first two weeks. She was either at school or the gym, practicing for her upcoming acrobatic trials. During his second week with them, Iris started sending him to the gym at seven to walk her home and he would wait outside the door, kicking at the dirt with his hands shoved into his pockets, wordlessly trailing two steps behind her for the entire walk home.

  She wished he would talk to her but he merely nodded, shrugged, or shook his head if she ever addressed him directly. After eight nights of brooding silence on the walk home, she slowed her pace to match his and said completely out of the blue: "I'm sorry about your parents. It's one of the most horrible things I've ever heard and I'll never mention it again, but I didn't want you to think I didn't care because I hadn't said anything." She exhaled in a rush, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering if she had just made a monumental mistake in even bringing the subject up.

  He shrugged. And that was it.

  She turned to him, keeping pace while walking backwards, trying to catch his gaze, but he was looking away, always looking at anything but her. He was a hard one to crack, that's for sure. Charlotte put out her hand and placed it against his chest, stopping him from walking any further. "Why don't you ever talk to me? Or look at me?" Boys always looked at her, fell over their feet to be the first to talk to her. She was unused to being ignored by boys. And this boy interested her. He was an enigma, all mystery and brooding good looks, his face unlike any of the boys at school who were constantly clamouring to stick their tongues down her throat and their fingers into her pants. He was looking at her now though, as she stood before him in her crop top and gym pants, her hand flat against the middle of his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath the palm of her hand, thudding rapidly. She drew closer to him, her gaze fixed to his. "Don't you like me?" she asked, in her best, come at me now, breathy voice; to date, it had never failed her.

  He smiled then, his face altering, the beauty of his youth coming to the fore. Charlotte warmed at the sight of it, quivering slightly as he placed his hand gently around her wrist. "Yeah, I like you well enough. But your parents have opened up their home to me and I have nowhere else to go if I stuff this up, so let's go back to us not talking all that much and you walking a few steps ahead of me so I can perve on your arse without you knowing." He dropped her hand then and indicated with his head that she should keep on walking.

  Charlotte opened her mouth to reply, but then snapped it shut again immediately. She really had nothing to say to that. Turning on her heel, she continued walking home, Toby a few paces behind her. She put a swing into her step, figuring she might as well take him at his word and give him something to watch for the trip home. He wouldn't stay cool for long. Not now that she knew she held his interest. Will power could bend if you applied enough pressure in all the right places. It was just a matter of patience and perseverance.

  From the minute the words left his mouth, Toby regretted them. She'd see him as a challenge now. Girls like her, the pretty and popular ones, they were all the same. Wanting everyone to be falling all over them and hanging for the next crumb of attention they saw fit to toss out. He should have just told her he wasn't interested, but there you have it, he had to go and tell her the truth. And now he had two solid weeks of her, all day long, while both of her parents went out to work from eight in the morning until six at night, the two of them left to rattle around this large old fashioned house with its huge veranda and even bigger swimming pool.

  He liked Royce and Iris. They were good people. They laughed a lot, talked about everything from current affairs to neighbourhood gossip, and seemed completely wrapped up in each other in a way that had at first seemed gross, given they were parents, but after a couple weeks of having been with them, seemed kind of just normal now. The pair of them were fairly liberal on rules, and Charlotte seemed to do pretty much whatever she felt like, with this liberation appearing to extend to him by default. They expected you to pick up after yourself, do a job if you saw it needed doing, and generally just pull your weight around the house and yard, but other than that, there was nothing set in stone. Toby was slowly finding himself able to relax, the tension of living under his father's roof beginning to finally leave him. He didn't miss either of his parents, but he was prone to fits of melancholy if he dwelled too much on his mother's wasted existence. Being so far away from his former life was the best thing that could have happened to him and he had not been lying to Charlotte when he said he didn't want to stuff up this new life he had before him. He was happy here, the happiest he had ever been, and he wanted his life to stay that way.

  Which is why he should not have been leaning over the rail perving on Charlotte as she lay stretched out on a lounger by the pool in a red bikini that was covering such a small amount of her body that its existence was almost obsolete. She was yakking on the portable phone to some friend, clearly another girl by the angle of the conversation and the giggles that continued on and on. At least while she was caught up with that, she wouldn't likely notice him openly staring at her from up above. Royce and Iris seemed pretty casual alright, but he wasn't convinced for a minute that wouldn't change if he put so much as a finger on their daughter.

  Charlotte's phone conversation seemed to be dwindling down and after only a few more minutes of talking, she hung up and dropped the phone down beside her, adjusting her sunglasses before reaching behind her back to undo her bikini top. Flinging the top away, she stretched her arms wide, lying back against the lounger, exposed and exquisitely bare.

  Clearly she had been aware he was up above on the balcony, standing over her, the entire time. She stretched out a little, arching her back and pulling one of her legs up, before turning her head to angle her face up towards him, her wide smile confirmation of her intentions.

  "Toby, do you think you could bring me out the sunscreen from the laundry? I'm worried I might get burnt."

  Toby cleared his throat and took a small step away from the rail, lest his interest in her showed itself too obviously. "You're less likely to get burnt if you put on a shirt," he offered, uselessly.

  She merely shrugged. "It's too hot for a shirt."

  Stepping further back into the shadows, he thought for a moment. Shit. She knew exactly what she was doing, messing with him like this. Toby was no stranger to girls playing him. He was well aware they were drawn to him, but he had deliberately avoided too much contact with girls. His home life had been such a shit fest it had always seemed like far too much of a complication to get involved with someone. Getting involved meant bringing them home and that was never going to have happened in any lifetime ever. He had limited himself to groping kisses at the movies, and had been the beneficiary of one glorious head job from a girl who had particularly liked what he had done to her with his fingers. Standing on the shaded porch right now, he thought over his options. She was not going to quit until she had a win, and he was not going to risk what he had here for a quick thrill; yet there she was, quite possibly the hottest girl he had ever seen, lying topless down by the pool just begging for a reaction, and his body was refusing to stick to the plan.

  With a snap decision, Toby pulled off his own shirt, tossing it onto one of the outdoor chairs. Two could play at this game. He headed down to the pool, grabbing the sunscreen from the laundry along the way. Sinking down into one the loungers, he tossed the sunscreen at her. Toby had never actually seen a girl naked before, in the flesh, so while he had no real life comparisons to draw on, he was quite certain that even if he did, none of them would possibly come close to her. She was like a fantasy realised. He stared at her openly, trying to make her uncomfortable with his scrutiny. It worked, because he noti
ced her cheeks beginning to colour, and she shifted slightly, not that she had anywhere to go, but it gave off the impression of slight embarrassment, as though she might now be getting more than what she had initially bargained for. He welcomed the scales tipping in his favour.

  "Would you like me to rub your sunscreen on for you?" He pinned his gaze to her chest while he spoke, watching as a line of perspiration worked its way down from her throat, nestling into the hollow space between her breasts. What might it be like to press his lips there, into that hollow, to feel the heat of her skin, to taste the salty tang of her perspiration? Almost immediately, he regretted the thought, the image nearly giving him cause to explode into his own pants.

  Charlotte sat up and nodded to him, turning in her seat to present him with her back. She pulled her hair over shoulder and waited. Leaning forward, he grabbed the sunscreen, squeezing a liberal amount onto the palm of his hand. He started at her shoulders, rubbing at her skin firmly, working his way down until he had reached the base of her back. He skimmed his fingers just inside the waist band of her bikini bottoms, smiling as she jumped, her gasp a confirmation that she was indeed now somewhat nervous about this situation she had initiated. Squeezing some more sunscreen onto the palm of his hand, he returned to her shoulders, working his hands around to the front of them, skimming the tops of her arms. He felt her tense and sensed, rather than heard, her hold her breath. Back up to her shoulders, he touched her much more lightly than he had on her back, and as he concentrated on her shoulders and neck, he felt her relax beneath his hands. Her skin was soft and perfect, a warm peachy colour that smelled divine, a combination of coconut from the sunscreen and her own perspiration. Toby lifted his hands from her shoulders, trailing his fingers down the sides of her arms; she jumped slightly, her back pressing into his chest, the perspiration of their skin meeting. He let his fingertips brush back up along the inside of her arms this time, noting how tense she had once again become. When his hands reached her shoulders once more, he grasped them, firmly, putting his mouth against her ear.