You have four new voice messages.
Message one. Received Monday, twenty-third September, at six fifty-four pm.
“Maccy!... crackle... to airport... crackle... what... crackle... Felix... crackle... dead... crackle...”
Message two. Received Monday, twenty-third September at ten o one pm.
“Crackle... Felix you fu... crackle... hands on Maccy... crackle... kill... crackle... boarding now... crackle...”
Message three. Received Tuesday, twenty-fourth September, at twelve thirty-one pm.
“Maccy! What the flaming hell is going on there? I’ve just landed in Singapore and you’re still not picking up the goddamn phone. My flight leaves in two hours and I need you to call me on my mobile immediately young lady. Felix? Are you there? Are you listening to this? I swear to god, if you’ve so much as laid a finger on her I’ll... ”
Message four. Received Tuesday, twenty-fourth September, at one fifty-three pm.
“Maccy, I’m about to board. I’m scheduled to arrive in Darwin at seven tonight and I expect you both to be there. You have some explaining to do.”
Sat on the dining room table, wearing Felix’s t-shirt and a pair of her own knickers, Mac swung her legs back and forth, and, with her head drooped low, nibbled at a tiny fragment of loose skin beside her thumbnail. “Shitting hell.”
“Mmm, indeed.” In the kitchen, leant back against the counter where the kettle behind him bubbled into life, Felix raked his hands through his hair.
“Sooo... Dad’s on his way then.” Mac stopped chewing and looked over to him.
“Seems that way. Interesting mood he’s in don’t you think?” He pulled out two cups from the cupboard and put them down, dropping a tea bag in each. “Can you think of any reason why, from seventeen thousand kilometres away, or only three and a bit thousand as it appears to be now, that he had any idea we were, umm...”
Felix’s dimples twitched as he looked at Mac. Her hair, which had been perfectly sleek last night, now bordered on the far side of dishevelled and there was an almost iridescent pink glow to her cheeks. Other than a minute’s break for water, and a few more to fix the bathroom door handle, granting them access to her shower, they had only now come up for air.
“Ah, well, you see, just before you arrived home last night, the phone rang a couple of times and I thought it was you calling to say you weren’t coming back, however, there wasn’t actually anyone on the other end, or at least so I thought, it was just crackling and then silence. Aaaanyhow... it’s possible that I may have shouted something about having sex... with or without you.” Mac dropped her head again and pulled a clump of tangled hair down over her face.
“Sex, with or without me?”
“I know, I know! Argh, God, how cringe-worthy.” She slid down off the table and walked over to the fridge, grabbed the milk and stirred a little into the tea.
Not that it gave her much comfort, but Mac briefly considered how lucky she was. With the level of frustration she had been feeling last night, it was amazing that she hadn’t taken her declaration faux-pas even further, and shared with, unbeknownst to her, her father, not only her plan to have sex with Felix, but also the very detailed mental list of everything she was hoping he would do to her.
YOU ARE READING
Mac Stephens' last birthday was spectacular, for all the wrong reasons. Being unceremoniously dumped with no explanation and then fired from a job she actually enjoyed on the same day that she turned thirty, was enough to send her running straight b...