Isla's Inheritance Read online

On Wednesday, Dad arrived right at six. I was sitting backwards on one of the dining chairs, arms resting on its back; Sarah stood behind me with a hair straightener. She’d refused to let me just put my hair in a ponytail. At this point I was too jittery to care.

  “Happy birthday, pumpkin,” Dad said as he strode in the back door. Despite living almost two decades in Australia, he still had a noticeable Queen’s English accent, more obvious than Aunt Elizabeth’s.

  His blue eyes sparkled, surrounded by deep laugh lines. He’d forgone his usual scruffy jeans and flannel for black slacks and a forest-green, collared shirt that made him look years younger. “You look great,” he said at the same moment I did. We both laughed.

  After much consultation with Sarah and our friends from school, Kim and Natalie, I’d settled on a black lace-knit top and boot-cut jeans, as well as the same black leather boots I’d worn to the Halloween party. They had a bit of a heel, making me taller than my flat-footed five foot two. As Sarah pointed out, that was a plus if there was going to be more kissing. Kim, who was no taller than me, had agreed emphatically.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I smiled, turning my face up so he could kiss my cheek. Sarah grumbled, adjusting the straightener. “Did you see my bracelet?” I knew he hadn’t, but I wanted to show off my gift. I held out my arm with a grin.

  Sarah had given me the silver charm bracelet for my birthday. Two sterling silver beads were strung on the snake-like chain when I opened Sarah’s gift. Kim and Natalie had added two, leaving space for at least a dozen more. Cherishing the glittering treasure wasn’t hard.

  “Very nice.” He turned to Sarah. “Where’s your mother?”

  “Her room, I think,” Sarah said.

  “He could have at least pretended to be interested,” I grumbled once he’d disappeared down the corridor.

  Sarah turned my head with one hand so she could keep steaming my hair. “They’re discussing your present, probably. They have something planned, but they wouldn’t tell me what.”

  “That’s ‘cause you’re no good at keeping secrets.”

  “Am too,” she protested. “I kept the secret about the bracelet, didn’t I?”

  “True. But I think your mum’s still blaming you for blabbing about Ryan’s new bike.”

  “I was seven!” She sounded wounded.

  “I didn’t mind,” Ryan grinned, coming in the door. His hair stood in damp spikes from the shower, and he’d dressed in clean jeans and a black shirt. He looked much less scruffy than usual. “It gave me something to look forward to. Hey, cuz, looking good.”

  “Thanks.” I winced as Sarah tugged my hair.

  Soon we were ready to go. I brushed my now straightened and loose hair back from my eyes as we trooped outside. My stomach didn’t know whether to be hungry or nervous. I hoped my nerves about meeting Dominic didn’t ruin my appetite—I’d been looking forward to this meal all week—and then had to laugh at myself. If all I could do was fret about my date, better to put it from my mind until it was time to meet him.

  Or try to, at least.

  Sarah, Ryan and I started towards Aunt Elizabeth’s sedan, but my father and aunt hung back. When we turned back, they were both smiling. “We thought we might take two cars to the restaurant,” Dad said, holding out a set of keys.

  Sarah twigged before I did. “Are you giving her a car?”

  “Well … yes.”

  “Where is it?”

  Dad pointed down the driveway to a small hatchback parked at the curb under the lone streetlight. I ran over to get a closer look, my cousins on my heels.

  The car was a cute little four-door in medium blue, and I loved it instantly and completely. I jumped into the driver’s seat as soon as Dad handed me the keys, running my hands over the steering wheel and dashboard, admiring the soft grey upholstery. I was unable to believe the generosity of the gift. It was an older model and smelled of air freshener, but I didn’t care. I had a car.

  “So what do you think?” Dad bent to look through the open door.

  “I love it,” I beamed, getting out and wrapping my arms around his neck. “I love it. But…” I took a deep breath. “Dad, are you sure about this?”

  “Of course I am,” he replied, gently disengaging my arms so he could look me in the eyes. “I’ve saved for this since you were sixteen, and your aunt paid for the registration and insurance as her gifts to you.”

  “They’re paid up for twelve months,” Aunt Elizabeth added, standing a few feet back up the driveway. “After that, you’re on your own.” She smiled to soften her words.

  “That’s fine,” I said, stepping closer to wrap my arms around her slender neck. “Thanks so much, both of you.”

  “Are we going?” Sarah called from the front passenger seat, peering out the driver’s door at us. She and Ryan had sorted out the matter of shotgun; Ryan was wedged into the back seat, a disgruntled look on his face.

  I glanced at my benefactors, and Dad waved me towards the car. “Go. We’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

  “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek before dancing back to the car. My car!

  I cherished every moment of getting in: putting on the seatbelt, adjusting the seat and mirrors, turning the key and listening to the engine purr to life.

  “It’s got a tape deck,” Sarah pointed out as the dashboard lit up.

  “That’s okay,” I said, fiddling with the dial. Dad had programmed it to one of the local AM radio stations, so I flicked it to the FM band and found my favourite music station. “That’s what Triple J’s for.”

  “That’s got to be the first time your father hasn’t given you a sculpture or something else he’s made,” Sarah said, riffling through the glove box.

  “Probably not the first time ever, but recently, yeah,” I agreed. Dad’s main hobby, other than obsessively following his football team, was ironwork. I had a daunting collection of coat hooks, towel racks, heavy jewellery, bells and particularly candleholders. I loved my father and that he enjoyed his hobby, but there was a limit to how many candleholders a girl needed. Most of mine were on a shelf in the back of Aunt Elizabeth’s shed. It was a wonder there was room in there for Ryan’s paint supplies.

  The drive to the restaurant was hair-raising for someone who still lacked confidence in her driving, given we were on the tail end of peak hour and it was dusk. But I also felt a pang of regret when I parked the car. Burgeoning affection made me pat the blue hood as I walked around its front. My cousins didn’t bother to stifle their laughter at that.

  Dad and Aunt Elizabeth were already in the restaurant, sitting at a booth along the back wall. They waved and we headed over, inhaling the delicious smells of cooking meat and Cajun spices. I slid in beside Dad and Sarah sat beside me.

  Prime Time’s decor was based on the pun of their name. Heavy timber furniture padded with dark cushions provided the foundation, gleaming softly under the subdued lighting you’d expect from a steakhouse. In contrast, the walls were lined with bright posters and memorabilia from popular television shows. Novelty clocks, autographed posters, props in glass cases and even a street sign filled the spaces between tables. Actual televisions were mounted at various points around the room, showing reruns, but the sound was muted. We wouldn’t have been able to hear them anyway. While I loved the timber furniture, the scraping of chairs on hard floor contributed to the noise made by conversation and clinking cutlery on plates.

  We chattered as I pretended to look at the menu. I’d decided what I wanted days ago—medium-rare steak smothered in béarnaise sauce. It didn’t get any better than that—taste-wise, at least. I’m sure a health nut would disapprove. But it was my birthday, so screw it.

  I did order a Coke Zero though.

  Once we’d ordered, Ryan reached into his jacket pocket and produced an untidily wrapped gift. “I hope you like it,” he said, sliding it across the table.

  With clamped lips, I held back the squeal building behind my teeth when I saw a pretty purple MP3
player in a black case. He’d painted a tiny rose on the back of the case. I ran a wondering finger over its scarlet petals and sharp-looking green thorns, feeling the subtle contours of the paint.

  “Once you get some portable speakers you have an alternative to the car’s tape player.” Ryan grinned.

  “Wait a minute.” Sarah’s voice rose. “You knew she was getting a car and you didn’t tell me?”

  “Coincidence,” Ryan replied, but the sparkle in his eyes indicated he was lying.

  Sarah inhaled to say something explosive, and Aunt Elizabeth opened her mouth to scold, but Dad cut in over both of them. “I have another gift for you as well,” he said.

  “Dad, you’ve been too generous already.”

  “Well, I can’t let a special occasion go by without inflicting some of my ‘art’ on you,” he teased. It was so close to what I was thinking on the drive over that my ears burned. Ryan snorted, and Sarah kicked him hard under the table. He winced.

  Dad handed me a gift bag, and its weight gave away its general contents even if I hadn’t been forewarned. The present was a circle of dark metal as wide as the span of my hand, with a numeral 18 in the middle. The circle and the number were all one piece. He’d attached a separate loop to the top, so I could hang it from the wall if I wanted to. Unlikely, but I admired his optimism, as well as the talent it took to make the gift in the first place.

  “Thank you, Dad,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “You’re welcome, Isla Rose.” He smiled. “I’m so proud of you, honey. You’re all a father could want in a little girl.”

  “She’s not a little girl anymore,” Ryan pointed out, fidgeting with his napkin. “That’s sort of the point of this dinner.”

  “Children are always little boys and girls to their parents,” Aunt Elizabeth said, brushing Ryan’s hair behind his ear.

  “Muuuum!” Ryan did sound like a little boy then, and we all laughed.

  Dinner was delicious, and Dad managed to refrain from telling too many embarrassing stories from when I was a kid. I almost managed to forget about my date, although I did regularly peek at my watch to make sure I wasn’t going to miss meeting Dominic. When it came time to order dessert I held off; despite my earlier jokes about having two desserts, I didn’t want to get to wherever we were going and discover I was too full to have something. Or, worse, eat something to be polite and then feel sick.

  Everyone else ordered, though. I was a little jealous at the idea of the giant fudge sundae Dad requested with a grin. Fortunately I would have to go before it arrived, so at least I wouldn’t have to watch him eat it.

  When I got up at quarter to nine to freshen up my makeup, Sarah followed me into the bathroom.

  “Oh my god, are you excited?” She hovered behind me as I leaned forward to check my eye shadow in the mirror before fishing my compact out of my bag.

  I rolled my eyes at her, which she took as assent.

  “I wish I could come with you,” she said.

  “Awkward.”

  “Not to sit at the table! I could watch from across the room.”

  “And you think that somehow makes it less awkward?” I raised an eyebrow at her reflection.

  She thought about that for a moment. “Good point. Will you text me if anything interesting happens?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Cow.” She punched my shoulder and I laughed.

  When we got back to the table, Dad was standing. “Do you want me to come and wait outside with you?”

  “No,” I gasped, taking a breath and trying not to look horrified. Poor Dominic would be frightened off by my bear of a father in a heartbeat.

  “I don’t like the idea of you waiting alone outside,” Dad said.

  “David, she’s an adult now, remember?” Aunt Elizabeth pointed out. I tried to hide my sigh of relief. When Dad continued to look reluctant, Ryan spoke. “I’ll go wait with her.”

  “Ooh, me too,” Sarah volunteered quickly.

  “Just Ryan will be fine, thanks,” I replied just as quickly. Sarah’s capacity for overwhelming enthusiasm was as great as my father’s was for looming. As much as I loved them both, I didn’t want them making me feel any more awkward than I already did. Not to mention the effect they’d have on Dominic. Ryan was so relaxed he wouldn’t be intimidating, and he and Dominic knew each other.

  “But—” Sarah looked rebellious.

  “Sit!” Aunt Elizabeth said.

  Sarah flounced into her chair, looking petulant as Ryan stood to follow me.

  I knew she’d forgiven me when I got a text from her as we were walking out the door. Cow.

  Moooo, I sent back.

  Full night had settled but, when I craned my neck to look at the sky, I could only see a handful of stars. The rest were bleached out by city lights. I slid my hands through the sleeves of my trench coat, bristling at the satin lining’s chill. The air was cooling rapidly. There might even be dew on the grass by dawn.

  I felt silly asking Ryan to stand with me, but knew if I sent him back in I’d have to cope with Dad or Sarah. Or both. So instead I smiled. “Thanks for this.”

  “No worries. Good to get some fresh air.” He slipped his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. I went back to scanning the car park across the street for Dominic.

  “So are you eighteen yet?” Ryan asked me after a few minutes of silence. I gave him a puzzled look. “I mean, has the actual time passed when you were born?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.” I glanced at my watch again. It was one past nine.

  “Feel any older? More mature or anything?” His eyes sparkled.

  “Nope.” Even though I’d known it was silly, I’d wondered if maybe I would. But I felt the same as I had the day before. It was a little disappointing. I guess part of me had hoped there’d be some flash of insight: a revelation of what I was meant to do for the rest of my life. Or next week’s lottery numbers. Something.

  “Isn’t that Dominic?”

  Ryan’s question startled me from my reverie and I peered towards the car park again. He was right. My date—eep—was making his way across the lot. My stomach rolled over and tried to hide behind my spine.

  “Relax. Dominic’s a good guy.” Ryan took my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. My fingers sparked, as though an electric shock had leapt from me to him.

  “Ow,” Ryan said. I felt dizzy, grabbing his arm for support. “Are you okay?”

  Even as he spoke, the vertigo evaporated. I released his arm, embarrassed. “Uh. I’m fine.” Did Aunt Elizabeth’s coat have a nylon lining? I’d been sure it was satin. That’d be my luck. For my next trick, I will electrocute my date with the power of static electricity.

  Dominic wore the same Chucks he’d had on at the Halloween party, this time paired with stonewashed jeans and a grey, collared shirt. A leather jacket was slung over one arm, and his hair was neat except for a spiky fringe. Would the fringe would be crunchy or soft to run my fingers through? Would I get to find out?

  “Happy birthday.” Dominic grinned and leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. He smelled of aftershave and mints. A different kind of tingle fluttered in my belly.

  “Thanks.” Was I blushing again? Or still? Dammit!

  Ryan and Dominic shook hands and exchanged greetings. My phone buzzed in my pocket. He looks good. The message was from Sarah. I glanced over my shoulder to see her peering out the restaurant window, her phone in her hand and a grin on her face.

  Stalker, I sent back. The window was thick enough to block her squeal of outrage.

  “So where are you going?” Ryan asked Dominic.

  “I thought we could go to Jean-Claude’s,” Dominic replied, naming one of the better French patisseries in Canberra. He turned to me. “I figured we could walk there, have cake, and afterwards I could drop you home.”

  “I’ve got a car.” I tried to sound cool about it, but my fresh excitement betrayed me. “It was a present from m
y dad.”

  “Wow, your dad’s awesome.”

  “No kidding.” I grinned.

  “Where are you parked?” he asked. I pointed across the road, to the same car park he’d come from. “Okay, well I can walk you back to your car instead.”

  “Done.”

  “Have fun,” Ryan said, giving me a hug. “Call if you need anything,” he whispered in my ear. He was taking his impromptu role of protector seriously. It was reassuring, although I didn’t get the sort of vibe off Dominic that made me think I needed it.

  I nodded to Ryan and he went back inside, shooing Sarah away from the window as he entered the restaurant.

  Within a few seconds, Dominic and I were alone on the street.

  “Ready?” Dominic offered me his arm and, smiling, I looped mine through his. Goosebumps shivered along my arm.

  “So how has your day been?” he asked.

  “Good,” I replied. “I’d have preferred not to go to school, but at least my friends were there.”

  “You should’ve taken the day off.”

  “Finals start next week.” I shrugged. “It’s my last year. Some of my teachers have started reviewing, so I can’t afford to miss it.”

  “Fair enough,” he said after a moment. “I remember how freaked out I was during my last semester.”

  “How’d you cope?”

  “Caffeine. Lots of caffeine.” His smile flashed bright under the streetlights.

  When we arrived at Jean-Claude’s, my heart sank. All the tables were full or had reserved signs. But Dominic had planned ahead. One of the reserved signs, in a small two-person booth in the back corner, was for us. Sliding in to sit beside him, I hid a grin behind my hand at the realisation he’d thought ahead. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d been nervous.

  The café wasn’t as noisy as Prime Time, despite crowding a similar number of people into a smaller space. The decor was a combination of brown and cream that made me feel like I was inside a chocolate éclair, and the air smelled of sweet baked goods and cooking fruits.

  A pretty waitress with blond hair tied back in a braid brought us a menu. She handed it to Dominic with a wide smile, ignoring me. Was she hitting on him?

  Hips swaying rather more than was necessary, the waitress walked away to serve another table. Yep, definitely hitting on him. I smiled when Dominic didn’t seem to notice. After a brief glance, he handed me the menu. “Ladies first.”

  “Why, thank you, sir.”

  The menu contained all of the usual, delicious, suspects—croissants, danishes, éclairs and tarts, as well as savoury items like quiches. “Should I have chocolate lava cake or mocha cake?” I wondered aloud.

  “Why don’t we get both and share?” Dominic offered.

  I beamed at him. “My hero.”

  We ordered cakes—moelleux au chocolat and gâteau moka, the blond waitress corrected when I ordered them in English—and coffee. Conscious of the fact I’d already overshared about my family on our previous meeting and not wanting to seem self-centred, I quizzed him about where he’d gone during his backpacking adventures. It turned out he’d travelled around the United Kingdom, working in pubs to pay his way. His favourite place was Ireland, because of the friends he’d made.

  “So what are you going to do now?” I asked him.

  “Not sure,” he shrugged. “I’m thinking I’ll try and get a job in a pub or restaurant to start with. Maybe look at getting a hospitality diploma. I enjoyed working with people when I was overseas. You?”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you said your father was hoping you’d go to uni, but have you given it any thought?”

  I looked down at my hands. “I haven’t decided. I think I’ll do okay, entry score-wise, but … it’s such a huge decision. What I want to do for the rest of forever.”

  “I know.” He took one of my hands in his. “That’s why I went abroad for a year. I had no idea when I graduated.”

  Tension flowed from my shoulders at his touch. I curled my fingers around his, and deep questions about my future vanished like Hamish at bath time.

  “Your desserts,” the waitress said, arriving at the worst possible time and plonking the two plates down between us so we had to let go. She sounded a little annoyed—she was far less attractive when she scowled. Dominic frowned as the waitress swished off to get our coffees.

  Still, both desserts looked fabulous and smelled even better, chocolate creations that almost made me forgive the waitress for flirting with my date. Almost.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be able to cut the lava cake in half,” I said, mouth watering as I curled my hand around my spoon. “How about you eat half and then we swap plates?”

  “Okay,” Dominic agreed. “But where are we going to put the candle?”

  “Candle?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pink candle sitting in a plastic stand with a spike on the bottom, like a tiny golf tee. “Candle, see? Can’t have birthday cake without a candle.”

  “Oh. Um. In the mocha cake, I guess. But please don’t sing.”

  Dominic looked hurt. “Did someone warn you about my voice?”

  “No!” I gasped. “It’s the soul-crushing embarrassment of everyone staring at me. I hate it. I’m a wimp, I know.”

  “It’s okay,” he laughed, “I’m kidding. But I won’t sing, I promise. It’s better for everyone that way.”

  He wedged the candle into the gooey top of the mocha cake before producing a lighter and lighting the wick. “Quick, blow it out before Grumpy comes back and scolds me,” he urged, eyes sparkling.

  I closed my eyes to make a wish, and blew out the candle with a quick puff. A thin tendril of smoke unfurled.

  “Happy birthday.” Sliding the cake back, Dominic leaned across the corner of the table and kissed me. I shivered at the soft warmth of his lips, the brush of his tongue against mine.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, in a low, teasing voice when we parted.

  “Sure. Just didn’t expect my wish to come true quite so soon.” I laughed, flustered.

  He grinned, and kissed me again. I could get used to this whole kissing thing.

  “Your coffees,” said Grumpy. I started to move away, but Dominic kissed me for another couple of seconds before looking up at the waitress.

  “Thanks,” he said brightly.

  She huffed and walked away.

  “She got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he said.

  “She was trying to flirt with you,” I pointed out.

  “She was?” He sounded surprised.

  I nodded, cutting a piece of cake off the slice with my spoon and popping it into my mouth so he wouldn’t see the anxiety on my face.

  “Hmm.” He looked after her for a moment before shrugging. “Well, she’s not my type anyway.”

  “What type is that?” I held my breath.

  “It’s an Isla-shaped type,” he said, smiling.

  It was a wonder I didn’t melt onto the floor.

  After we’d eaten, Dominic surprised me with a present. The familiar blue pouch nestling in his hands was a pretty big clue—it bore the same jewellery store logo as the ones Kim and Natalie had given me earlier. Sarah was meddlesome.

  Sure enough, the gift was another silver bead for my charm bracelet, this one a tiny elf clutching a daisy-like flower. It was adorable.

  “Thank you so much.”

  But when I went to put the bead onto my bracelet with the others, the bracelet was gone. It wasn’t under the table, either, or in my purse. My stomach sunk through the floor—it was such a thoughtful gift from my friends; what if I couldn’t find it? “It must have fallen off after we left the house,” I moaned.

  “It’s okay, we’ll find it,” Dominic said, trying to be reassuring as he scanned the aisle between our table and the door. “Let me pay and we’ll walk back to Prime Time.”

  “I can pay for half,” I offered, reaching for my purse.

  He
waved my offer away. “It’s your birthday.”

  The walk back to the steakhouse was nowhere near as pleasant as the walk there; although Dominic held my hand, I was too busy scanning the path and verge for hints of silver to enjoy the moment. The closest thing I found was the silver foil from the inside of a cigarette packet, which I threw into a bin in disgust. What if someone had already found my bracelet and taken it?

  The others had already left, but the waitress who’d served us helped check under the table and in the booth where we’d sat. No luck. Almost in tears, I gave them my details in case anyone found the bracelet. I considered texting Sarah to ask her to check around the house, but I didn’t want to tell her I’d lost my present. Not until I’d searched everywhere.

  The walk back to the car also produced nothing; Dominic had a small flashlight on his key ring and ran its beam along the ground between the cars. When we got to my little car, I hugged him, sad not just because I’d lost my gift but because I felt like I’d ruined the end of our date. “I’m sorry.” I apologised, wiping away a tear.

  He looked surprised. “What on earth for?”

  “For getting all emo on you.”

  “Rubbish,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “This isn’t emo. You should meet my sister.”

  I nodded, scuffing the gravel with the toe of my boot.

  “Hey, chin up. I’ll walk back to Jean-Claude’s one more time, to make sure we didn’t miss anything in the dark. Text me when you get home so I know you got there okay?”

  “Okay.” I watched him walk away, cheered a little by how sweet he was being.

  My hand brushed along the rough carpet under the driver’s seat, checking for my treasure. Nothing. Even the pleasure of driving my own car couldn’t lift my heart from my boots. Sarah would be upset that I’d lost my gift, especially since she’d gone to so much trouble making sure everyone chipped in. By the time I parked out the front of our house, I felt two inches tall. The bushes rustled; I scowled at them. I’d almost welcome another confrontation with my attacker from Halloween. It would suit my mood. But nothing emerged from the screen of plants, so I trudged up the driveway.

  When I saw the telltale gleam of silver sitting in a small pile on the doormat, I gasped. Sure enough, my bracelet was there, glittering under the porch light. I scooped it up and checked to make sure it was intact. It had come unfastened right on our doorstep. How lucky! I resolved to buy a safety clasp the next day.

  Sarah was waiting inside the door when I came in.

  “How was it?” she demanded.

  “Wonderful. Until I made an idiot of myself.” I explained about the lost bracelet, still embarrassed, but relieved I’d found it.

  “I’m sure I would’ve seen it if it’d been there when we got home.” Sarah frowned.

  “I guess you were distracted. It’s lucky no one stepped on it and broke the chain.”

  “True.” She looked dubious, but then shrugged. “But how sweet of Dominic to go back and check again.”

  “Yes, it was. And look what he got me.” I handed her the extra charm and she feigned surprise, turning it over in the palm of her hand and grinning.

  I fished my phone out of my purse, noticing as I did several increasingly impatient messages from Sarah that I hadn’t heard over the ambient noise at Jean-Claude’s. “I better let him know I found it.”

  About thirty seconds after I’d sent him the message, as I was threading the new bead onto the charm bracelet, I got a reply.

  Great news! Had a good time tonight. Call you tomorrow?

  Okay, I replied, smiling.

  Chapter Four