Getting Real - Page 87

Bodge said, “I’m out.”

Rielle quirked her head to one side. “Fair enough, Bunk. But there’s one thing I want you to know.”

Lizard looked from Bunk to Rielle. As the stand in, he’d only ever had one turn in the Hand with Rielle so far. Jake figured he was calculating his chances of edging Bunk out of the Hand. He slapped the table five times laying down a four, five, six, seven and eight of clubs. He said, “Flush,” with a self-satisfied grin and made a motion to scoop the money in the centre of the table his way.

When Rielle said, “Hey, Liz, I think Bunk has something up his sleeve,” he paused.

“Nah he was just bluffing.” He started stacking the coins.

Bunk fanned his five cards down in one move, and they all leaned forward to see a suit of hearts: A ten, Jack, Queen, King and Ace hit the table.

“Shit,” said Lizard, rocking back on his chair, grabbing his beer.

With a wide smile, Bunk raked the money pot to his side of the table. “What did you want me to know, Rie?”

“That I’m sorry. Bunk, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. I was nervous tonight. Happens sometimes. Wait til we get to Sydney. I’m likely to be completely psycho.”

Jake shot Rielle a look of incomprehension. Ten minutes ago he’d have been happy if she’d admitted to being anxious during the show and here she was confessing her fears in front of key members of the crew. Was this real or part of her act?

“Ah Rie, you have no reason to be nervous. You do great and the punters love you,” said Bodge. The big lush. If he’d had long eyelashes to bat, he’d have batted them furiously.

“It can get freaky out there and sometimes I get scared. I took it out on you, Bunk, and I’m sorry. I hope you’ll still want to do the show with me again, but I understand if you don’t.”

What! Now she was talking about being scared.

“Aw, Rie that’s cool. I’m happy to do it with you.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” muttered Teflon, his head shooting forward as the flat of Bodge’s hand connected with it.

“Now boys,” said Rielle, using school teacher words but showgirl sass, one hand popping to her bouncing hip.

“Why are you worried about Sydney?” asked Bodge, now under teacher’s gaze, stroking the back of Tef’s head in a mock attempt to soothe where he’d whacked.

Yeah, this I’d like to hear.

“Because it’s home. I don’t know. It’s not logical. I’m nervous about performing in front of a home crowd.”

Bullshit! If that’s what she’s scared of I’ll go skydiving.

“Ah that’s mad, Rie, Sydney will love ya,” said Lizard.

“Let’s hope so.” She blew the poker players a kiss and gave him her hand. He held it like he wasn’t entirely sure who it belonged to.

When Jake and Rielle had gone, Teflon said, “Why’s she scared of Sydney punters?” He shuffled the deck with a well practised riffle and bridge technique which was the only part of the game he was good at—that and the drinking. He expected Bodge to answer, but Bodge was staring at his empty bottle. “Is she nervous about family?”

“Got none,” said Bunk.

“Shit yeah?” Teflon felt the shadow presence of Bodge’s hand again. He spun around to look at the older man. “What?”

“Fair dinkum, it’s true about you; nothing sticks, eh Tef? It’s rock legend. The dad, Ben Mainline, was a composer and musician—classical stuff. He was a yank. I can’t believe I have to tell you this. He was driving home from a concert, got hit by a semi. The mum was killed. Rie was fourteen, Rand sixteen. Ben took them back to the US and two years later he was dead from brain cancer. There was no other family. Those kids had to sing for their supper while they were still in school.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” Tef leaned towards Bodge, making a sacrificial offering of the back of his head which Bodge couldn’t resist. “So, why is she scared about Sydney then?” He started dealing, sliding the cards out one by one to rest in front of each of the players. Bunk picked each of his cards up as they landed; Lizard waited for his fifth to slide into place.

“Reckon it might be ghosts,” said Bodge, and when he slammed his empty bottle on the table they all jumped.

37. Panic Attack

If only. If only. If only.

Tags: Ainslie Paton Romance
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