Читать книгу Melt - Lisa Walker - Страница 12

Project: Meet with Maxine

Objective: Get out of going to Antarctica

Critical events: Say ‘can’ not ‘can’t’

Cool air surrounds me as I step inside my apartment block. I press the lift button, mentally rehearsing what I’m going to say to Maxine. If I get there early I can catch her before she rushes off to any meetings.

The lift doors open on my floor and I freeze. An unexpected and unwelcome visitor lurks outside my door.

Cougar Gale is wearing short shorts and a black singlet which shows off her biceps. If it wasn’t for the crutches and the plaster-­encased foot, she’d look ready to run a marathon. The folly of impersonating her strikes me anew. It’s like a spaniel trying to pass for a wolf. It’s lucky I’ve ditched that idea. I’m about to press the ‘doors close’ button and retreat, when she spots me. Reluctantly, I step from the lift.

Cougar has never acknowledged my existence before. In meetings she acts like I’m a piece of furniture. She is the star and I am but a humble assistant. But now … we have a lot in common.

As I approach her I wonder, again, what she is doing with Adrian. He doesn’t seem her type. I’ve seen Cougar in the social pages linked to ruggedly handsome and successful men – the Australian surf champion, a B-grade Hollywood actor and the son of a media magnate. Cougar is as beautiful in an off-the-shoulder evening gown as she is in her quick-dry clothes. They never last long, these men. She is clearly a man-eater.

Adrian is handsome and athletic – all that Bikram yoga and running. He is organised and good at his job, whatever it is. He pro­jects an air of focus and dependability. Although, as it turns out, he is not so dependable after all. He has the charisma that comes with being sure of himself. But … he is not in Cougar’s league.

Cougar raises her eyebrows as I approach. I am instantly aware of my sweaty tattered T-shirt and shorts. She’s right in front of my door so I can’t ignore her, though that’s what I’d like to do. Whatever she wants, I’m sure I don’t want to hear it.

‘We need to talk,’ she says.

I’d rather kick her crutches out from under her, but common courtesy is hard to overcome. I open the door and stand back to let her go first.

Cougar swings on her crutches ahead of me into the flat. She gazes around. ‘Into white, are you?’

‘Yes. It’s … calming. Do you want to sit down?’

Cougar perches on a stool at the breakfast bench.

I lower myself onto the couch and immediately feel at a disadvantage. I should have remained standing to look her in the eye, but it’s too late now.

‘I’m not happy,’ says Cougar.

This should have been my line. I’m the wronged partner confronting her fiancée’s seductress, after all. I have to admit she doesn’t seem happy. Her exquisitely plucked eyebrows are drawn together. Cougar appears to be nursing a grudge against me.

This is unfair and a little confusing. It leaves me lost for words. Where is a scriptwriter when you need one? A few obvious lines flash through my brain. How dare you show your face here? Get out and never darken my doorstep again, you man-stealing tart. But these seem misplaced in the face of her indignation.

I jump as Cougar bangs a crutch on the ground. ‘I’m not happy about you impersonating me in Antarctica.’

Oh that. ‘I’m not happy about it either. Maxine didn’t want to lose the spot to Channel—’

‘I know all that.’ Cougar puts her hand up. Her eyes move down my body then come up to meet mine. It is clear I have been appraised and found wanting. ‘It’s most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard and it’s not going to work.’

Right up until she says this, I would have agreed wholeheartedly, but now my hackles rise. Alexis from Dynasty wouldn’t stand for this from a woman who’d stolen her man. The words leap out before I can stop them. ‘Well, I don’t care what you think. I’m going to do it.’ I’m just putting on a show. I have no intention of going to Antarctica.

Cougar looks faintly amused. ‘They’ll find you out in the first day and send you home. I’m one of the best known faces in Australia. You’ll never carry it off.’

‘Ha, that’s what you think.’ I’m not going to roll over and let her walk all over me. ‘Everyone is replaceable.’

‘The media will get onto it and you’re going to look preposterous. It’s almost certainly illegal. I’ve had the clearance, not you.’ Her eyes linger on my face. She touches her mouth with a forefinger. ‘You’ve got chocolate …’

Damn. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

‘I doubt you’d have passed the medical. And you’ll be travelling overseas with a false identity. You’ll end up in jail.’

I hadn’t thought of that. ‘You can go to the media yourself. That’ll put an end to it.’

‘Don’t you think I would if I could? My contract has a clause for this sort of thing. It’s completely sewn up – commercial-in-­confidence. You’re the one who needs to stop it. You’re never going to be able to carry it off.’

Cougar sounds so sure and she’s probably right. But I waggle my head in a careless way. ‘We’ll see.’

‘It’s a joke. You’ – her lip curls – ‘impersonating me.’ She focuses on my mouth again.

I resist the urge to wipe it. She’s trying to psyche me out.

‘Sorry about Adrian by the way.’ She doesn’t sound sorry at all. ‘He’s quite the high-performer in bed, isn’t he?’

I’m gobsmacked.

‘And in other places.’

Anger stirs at last. She emits a low, dangerous growl. I can’t believe this woman. She’s doing a better job of sounding like Alexis than I am and she isn’t even trying. Is that what Adrian likes? Has he been longing for a prima donna? Anger shows her teeth, she snarls and roars and I have an epiphany. If that’s what Adrian wants …

I will go to Antarctica! I’ll be a better Cougar than she ever was. I’ll show him who’s a focused high-achiever. I’ll show him who’s the face of Australia. And damn it, I’m the soap opera scriptwriter here, not her. I’m taking control of this scene, starting now. Standing up, I look her in the eye. ‘I want you out of here. Now.’

Cougar’s mouth twitches. ‘No need to come over all melodramatic.’

I walk over and open the door. When I turn back she’s still perched on the stool. ‘What?’ You want it in writing?’ I hesitate, take a deep breath and say my next line. ‘You man-stealing tart.’ My cheeks flush red at my daring.

Cougar seems more puzzled than angry. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said’ – I draw myself up to my full height – ‘you man-stealing tart.’

Cougar laughs. ‘You’ve been watching too much daytime TV, Autumn.’

‘Summer.’

Cougar lowers herself onto the floor. ‘You’re going to regret doing this. You’re out of your depth, Winter.’

‘Summer.’

‘It’s going to end badly. For you.’

I’m waiting for her to add Spring, but she doesn’t. I shrug. I don’t want to go to Antarctica and I don’t want to impersonate Cougar but I’m committed now. I stand back to let her through the door.

Cougar pauses at the doorway and sniffs the air. ‘I don’t mind a bit of Mister Sheen.’

I stare at her, unsure how to take this. She gives the impression she’s waiting for a reply. As if Mister Sheen is a secret password. ‘Me neither.’

She winks at me.

My eye twitches but I am not winking back.

Cougar swings down the corridor towards the lift like a woman on a mission. She turns as the lift doors shut and the last thing I see is a flash of teeth like the Cheshire Cat, then she is gone.

Shutting my door, I lean against it. Antarctica. Damn. How did that happen? If only the word igloo had never passed my lips.

I remember Mum’s warning – encased in snow. I make a mental note to Google igloo-building. Structural integrity may be important if I don’t want to end up buried in snow.