Double-edged Malice



  Double-edged Malice

  By

  Margaret Gregory

  Copyright 2015 by Margaret Gregory

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Please note that I use Australian spelling throughout. You will see ou’s (colour) and ‘ise’ not ‘ize’ (realise) as well as a few other differences from American spelling.

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  Double-edged Malice

  “God, I’m pathetic,” Andy muttered, as she moved deeper into the darkness beside the closed car yard. “What did I expect to do? Follow him home and beg to be allowed to stay? Wherever he lives, it won’t be far enough away from Martin.”

  It didn’t seem like Steve was going home. Across the street, where he was walking, all the businesses were locked and dark, except for Bellini’s Restaurant. It still had its main sign lit, and the flashing “open late” beside the door.

  Andy waited as several cars drove past, and looked beyond the dark buildings to where the Westgate Bridge lit up the skyline. She checked the street, intending to move up closer to Steve, but a group of people left the restaurant. Most went to a parked car, but one stayed out on the street. The light from the street light showed the man to be dressed in a light coloured suit, have blond hair and gold-framed spectacles.

  Steve hastened his stride, and embraced than man like they were old friends. At that moment, the headlights of the parked car went on, showing Steve and the stranger in daylight detail.

  Andy took an involuntary step backwards. The shock of what she now knew froze her mind. Steve knew her brother. Knew Martin!

  Had Martin got Steve the job at the restaurant to watch her? Had he expected her to be so starved for affection that she would fall for the guy, just because he was nice to her? Well she had, like an avalanche.

  She heard laughter, and glanced down the street. Steve was tucking something white into his pocket. A gust of breeze from off the Yarra River brought their voices closer, just a snippet.

  “…yeah, the boss docked her pay…put her on notice…”

  Andy felt her face flush hot. They were talking about her…laughing. And Steve had seemed so sympathetic earlier, when they had walked together from work to where she lived with Martin in Newport.

  Not wanting to be even that close to either man, Andy eased back the way she had come. She reached the alleyway that cut through to the next street, and ran the five blocks back home.

  All sorts of ideas flicked through her mind, keeping her running fast. The nastiest was that Martin was trying to make trouble for her again…like before she had been expelled from school. Two years ago, he had ensured that her reputation was lower than street scum. While he, eight years her senior, was the ultra-respectable Local Laws Officer for Williamstown Council. He had also convinced the Police and the Department of Human Services Officers that she was an intractable delinquent - while he, the guardian she maligned, was Mr Perfect.

  Andy knew better, he was a bastard, but no one would believe her. What was worse, her whole nervous system froze at the mere thought of trying to prove it.

  From past experience, Andy knew Martin didn’t make idle threats. Keeping her nose out of his business was an absolute law. Being caught trying was a thrashing offence.

  The house was dark when she arrived, and irrationally Andy sighed in relief. It should have been; Martin was blocks away and, when he went out after tea, he usually didn’t get back before 2 am.

  Without wasting time, Andy entered and relocked the door. She didn’t turn lights on, but went directly to her bedroom and locked herself in. Headlights lit around her closed curtain, and she went to peep outside to the street. A silver Volvo was parked there, its lights going off. Martin emerged, locked the door and began to walk up the path.

  Terror galvanised Andy. She tore off snug fitting black uniform she wore at work, chucked the tee shirt and pants in a heap and pulled on her loose fitting two-piece pyjamas. As the front door shut loudly, Andy pulled her quilt over her ears and mouth and tried desperately to quieten her breathing and pounding heart.

  While she was sure there was no possible way that Martin could know that she had been spying on him - a dreadful thought occurred to her.

  Normally when she reached home after work, she was so tired that she was practically asleep on her feet. This night, she hadn’t been.

  An explanation came like a searing bolt of lightning. Ever since Steve had started walking her home, he’d given her a drink. Just a bottle of water, or diet coke or juice. He’d joked about it being a present that Martin would never suspect. Usually, she finished it quickly. Working in the steaming kitchen made her parched at the shift’s end.

  Last evening, she had dropped a tray of plates. The boss had been livid, but one of the other girls had given her a drink, to help her calm down. She hadn’t taken more than a mouthful then, and had finished it on the way home. She hadn’t touched Steve’s gift.

  Tonight, she hadn’t been sleepy.