Split. Part 18

"That's Roy." He was looking in the window of a bookshop across the street. He looked good in Levi's and a black leather jacket. Brando came to mind again.

"Roy? Your Roy? Excellent! Quick, go over and snag him. Mmmm, he looks just your type," Jaqui said, gazing out the window. "I'll quietly disappear and ask you all about it later."

"Oh, don't run away."

"I have to go anyway..." and then Jaqui was up and walking away from the table before Mak could protest. "Go get 'im," she said. "I'll call you later."

"Hi," Makedde said.

Roy spun around and looked at her. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Good to see you."

She smiled.

"I called you yesterday...you didn't get back to me."

"Yes, I got your message," Mak said. "I was pretty busy." Making an a.s.s of myself with Andy. "Sorry about that. It would be nice to go out again."

"Great," he said.

She thought about the roses he had left her.

"Roy, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about. I hate to do this, but you know the roses you sent me? They were a nice surprise, so thank you for that, but how did you know where to send them? I didn't give you my address, and I'm not listed in the phone book." That had been bothering her, even though she knew the answer to the conundrum.

He opened his mouth, then hesitated. He looked caught out.

"You didn't by chance follow me home from the Chilli Bar, did you?" she asked. Mak was sensitive about being followed, especially after finding out that Catherine's killer back in Sydney had stalked her for weeks before abducting her. Mak watched Roy's face to see how he would handle her question.

He let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry. I was worried about you. It was late...and I know you said you were fine to walk home alone but I just had to see that you were alright. I didn't mean to frighten you or anything."

Mak shook her head. She supposed it was a thoughtful thing to do, still, she didn't like it. The thought of being followed without her knowledge was alarming, whatever the intention.

"Listen to me now." She caught his eye and held it. "Please don't ever follow me for any reason. I...I have a thing about it. It's just not something I like."

"Sure. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Makedde. Like I said, I didn't mean to frighten you or anything, or invade your privacy. I only wanted to make sure you got to your door okay."

Okay.

"Next time just insist on walking me to the door if you're going to do that. Don't follow me."

"But I did insist," he said.

He had a point there.

"I know you did." She looked at her feet. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about that."

"It won't happen again. Understood." He saluted her and smiled, and she laughed. He wasn't offended.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asked.

"Studying."

"Oh." He looked disappointed.

She thought of Andy. She had to keep her mind off him. She couldn't push this man away. "But maybe we could catch up when I'm done? Something casual. Why don't I call you?"

"Sounds great." He moved forward and gave her a kiss, his hands brushing her shoulders. "I really enjoyed your company."

CHAPTER 28.

Debbie Melmeth woke up and smelled the delectable aromas of venison and garlic roasting in a hot oven somewhere nearby. She sat upright from the snoozing half-slouch permitted by her binds and searched the room with puffy eyes.

The appetising smells were so potent that she imagined she could actually see the scent itself, like wispy white ghosts creeping under the door and drifting seductively toward her nostrils.

Debbie imagined herself eating-what the food would look like on her fork, what it would taste like on her tongue-what it would feel like in her belly.

Oh, please feed me...

The door to her little room opened. She heard footsteps, saw the doorhandle turn, and there he was, standing in the doorway again. But this time Debbie thought he looked different. Perhaps it was because he was dressed differently-in a crisp white shirt and slacks. His hair was combed. Somehow, he looked a little less crazed than she remembered. Actually, at that moment, he looked almost handsome.

To her surprise, he carried a small table through the door. She watched as he walked up to her and set the table down in front of her, then smiled briefly, turned his back and was gone again. Debbie didn't move.

He came back with a tablecloth and some cutlery. She noticed there were two sets. He laid them out neatly on opposite sides of the table and set up a single, long white candle between them. He fished a box of matches out of his pants' pocket and struck one. Debbie's eyes followed the flame, and the candle made a tiny crackle as it was lit.

The sight of it was almost...almost romantic.

And hypnotic.

Before she knew it he had left the room and returned again with two bottles, one dark and one clear, and as he approached Debbie realised that the dark one was a bottle of red wine. She could see the label-a shiraz. He had gla.s.ses as well-two for water and two for wine. He filled her water gla.s.s first and placed it in front of her. She was desperate to sip it but her hands were still locked behind her back. She looked to the gla.s.s, then up at him. Her stomach let out a long growl.

"h.e.l.lo, young lady. My name is John," the man said.

He even sounded sane.

"h.e.l.lo, John," Debbie replied automatically, confused by the sudden turn of events. "I would really like some food and water," she said.

"Oh, I totally understand," said John. "I'll take care of that right away. I am cooking something for us right now. My brother has been very naughty to leave you this way. Has he fed you at all?"

Brother? But he looked exactly like you.

"Well, no. Not really. You, I mean he, he gave me some potato chips," Debbie corrected herself. "Your brother gave me potato chips, that's all."

Play along. Play along.

"Potato chips!" He looked shocked. "That is it? Nothing else?"

She shook her head. "Nothing else."

"I am so sorry, Miss. That is just awful. What's your name?"

"Debbie. Debbie Melmeth."

"Now, Debbie, I want to help you. I want to try to undo some of the wrongs my bad twin brother has done to you. I would like to take off your handcuffs for a start, but to tell you the truth, I'm afraid that you might hurt me if I do."

"No, no! I won't hurt you. I wouldn't do that," she insisted.

He c.o.c.ked his head to one side and looked at her. "Oh, I'm not sure." He shook his head. "Perhaps I should feed you by hand until we have talked some, and got to know each other a little more?"

"No! No. I mean, please feed me, please, but I can do it myself. You can free me. I promise I won't do anything."

He c.o.c.ked his head to the other side, thinking it over.

"I promise! I promise I'll be good."

He nodded. "Okay, Debbie. I will trust you. I am going to uncuff you now, but you have to be nice, okay?"

"Okay."

John walked around behind her and she felt the cuffs come off. Her wrists ached where the cuffs had been, but finally her hands were free. Immediately she reached across and grabbed the water off the table, gulping it down eagerly and not stopping until the gla.s.s was empty.

He smiled and refilled it for her. "That's better, hey?" he said and she nodded and grabbed for the gla.s.s again.

When Debbie had finished her third gla.s.s of water, she crossed her arms in front of her and hugged herself, and she began to cry.

"I am really sorry about all that other stuff with my brother, Debbie. I really am."

She said nothing, just looked at him. He looked sincere, but she didn't know what to think. Where was this man before? Did he really have a twin brother? What if it was the same person? He looked exactly the same. He could have just combed his hair and got changed.

"Hold tight for a moment longer while I get our dinner, okay, Debbie?"

She nodded eagerly. "Thank you so much. Thank you..."

Debbie watched him walk away, and feared for a moment that he would not come back. What if this man, her only hope, decided not to help her after all?

But John did come back, just the same, only now he was loaded up with the most beautiful meal that Debbie had ever seen. There was mashed potato, venison and roast pumpkin and beans and big cloves of garlic. She couldn't believe her eyes. There were little sourdough dinner rolls and everything.

"Oh my G.o.d," she blurted out at the sight of it. "Oh my G.o.d, thank you. Thank you so much!"

"I think we'll enjoy this, Debbie," he said and smiled.

She reached out for the food, and tried to grab a piece of meat, but John slapped her hand away angrily.

His smile was gone.

"No, Debbie. No, that's a bad girl." His face changed; his mouth turned down and he furrowed his brow. "You can eat it properly or not at all, do you hear me? Where are your manners?"

"Oh yes, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Debbie apologised.

"I'm very disappointed, Debbie," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh no! Don't be disappointed! It will never happen again. I'm so sorry," she said.

"That was very greedy, Debbie. Very discourteous. After I went to all this trouble to present you with a nice meal..."

Oh, G.o.d, what if he takes it away? What if he takes his food and goes away and leaves me to starve?

"I'm sorry. You're right. I was greedy. I'm sorry." She was dizzy from hunger.

"Okay, Debbie. I'll forgive you, but you have to be a good girl now, okay?"

"Okay," she promised.

He busied himself with aligning everything on the table. It was agonising waiting while he straightened the napkins and each piece of cutlery. Debbie sat on her hands to prevent herself from reaching for the food again. She kept her eyes down. She could not watch.

"Would you like some wine?" he finally said.

She remembered the drink she had had at the bar, and wondered how she couldn't recall anything after that point. How she had ended up in that G.o.dforsaken room was a mystery to her.

He must have noticed her hesitation. "It's okay. You have nothing to fear. It's just a shiraz. Do you like shiraz?"

He uncorked the bottle with his wine opener, and the cork slid out with an audible "pop". With just a touch of the shiraz in his own gla.s.s, he sniffed at it, tasted it, and then swilled it around in his mouth. He thought about the taste for a while, as she sat there starving.

"I think you'll like this," he said, and filled her gla.s.s halfway, and then his own. "Napkins first."

She raised her hands and forced herself not to look at the plate in front of her. Not yet. It all smelled so incredibly delicious. She fought the urge to grab it greedily. She knew that would anger him, and then she wouldn't stand a chance.

He reached across and placed her napkin in her lap for her, and said, "A toast."

She nodded.

"To us," he said.

To us?

She picked up her gla.s.s and clinked it against his.

He took a sip of wine, and she followed suit. She looked to him briefly for approval before launching into her meal. It was okay now, she could eat. It was as though all her senses, all her thoughts had been overtaken by the need to still her hunger.

"Now, just one more thing, Debbie."

"Yes?" she said between mouthfuls.