Page 43 of Malaise
“Mmm.” He shakes his head and picks up the pot, upending the contents into the tin and pressing it down as I finish off the remnants on the spoon.
He makes it halfway across the room toward the fridge with the slice tin balanced on one hand before the sound of the gate on the driveway being dragged open glues him to the spot. “Shit.”
“Your dad?” I ask, dumping the spoon in the sink.
“Yeah.” The slice tin is flung onto a shelf in the fridge so hard it hits the back and only refrains from careening back out because Carver shuts the door on it. “I thought he would be later than this.”
Tanya comes speeding out of the lounge, swinging off the kitchen doorway with one hand as she flies into the room and over to the window that overlooks the drive. “Is that Dad?”
“Yeah,” Carver replies, hands running frantically through his hair. “Change of plans, Meg: we’ll buy breakfast out.”
“Go,” Tanya says. “I’ll tidy up the kitchen.”
My heart rockets inside my chest, the unease in my gut no longer from my lack of food after alcohol. What the hell has them so freaked out?
“We’ll duck out the laundry door. Grab your stuff.” Carver points back up the hall to his room.
I run the few metres to his bedroom and rebound off the frame as I turn inside. Snatching up the bag of wet clothes from last night, I give my pockets a pat to make sure I have my phone and then turn to head back out when the rattle of the front door stops me dead.
“What you cooking?” A deep, gruff voice calls out.
“Something for later,” Carver replies. “You’re usually hungry after a night out.”
The loud slap of what sounds like a hand to a shoulder precedes a chuckle. “Good boy. Where you going?”
“Got a few errands to do,” Carver says flatly. “Anything you need while I’m out?” Any trace of the apprehension in his voice from mere seconds ago has long gone.
“No, I’m good.” A pause. “You all right, girl?”
“Yeah. Peachy, Dad,” Tanya answers. Although, unlike Carver, her fear remains.
“You lying to me?” The jovial timbre has left their dad’s tone. “You know I don’t tolerate liars.”
Silence… other than the loud tha-thump of my heart in my ears.
“What you two hiding?”
“Nothing, Dad,” Carver says.
“You bullshitting me too, boy?”
Fuck. What do I do? Should I walk out and take the heat, or stay here and listen to Tanya and Carver take a grilling for me?
“Have I ever?”
I daren’t move, daren’t breathe, waiting on the answer. Tension wracks the air.
“No, you haven’t.” The airy friendliness is back in their father’s voice.
I suck in a deep breath and sit carefully on the side of the bed. Heavy footfalls sound up the hallway, fast approaching the doorway. With stealth I didn’t know I possessed, I slip behind the open door and hold my breath.
“Meg,” Carver whispers as he enters and shoves his boots on. “Where the fuck are you?”
I step out of my hiding spot, yet the fear doesn’t subside seeing the sheer panic in Carver’s eyes.
“We need to go, now.” He grips me by the upper arm and pushes me behind him as he edges to the door.
Tanya’s voice drifts down the hall, followed by their father’s. From here it sounds as though they’re both at the dining table, but who would know for sure?