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Instead, I just
headed for my room.
    Ha! My room.
    I actually had a room, no swag under the
stars of a dodgy, insect-infested cabin in a caravan park, or chain hotel. Sure
my room was in a pub, not much more glamorous, but one thing was looking up as
I closed the door behind me and circled slowly in the room that had nothing
more than a double bed, corduroy green chair in the corner and a sink in what
was a windowless room. All I could think of as I caught my smirk in the
reflection of the murky mirror was for the first time in a very long time:
    I was very much alone.

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    Max
     
    “Thanks for letting me crash here, mate.”
    I was readying myself to repeat the
statement, thinking Sean, who sat at the table of the upstairs apartment
glaring intently at the papers before him hadn’t heard me. As if sensing my
gaze, he slowly tore his eyes away from the fascinating sprawl before him.
    “No worries, can’t see you homeless,” he
said, a small knowing smirk lining the corner of his mouth.
    It was a look I was getting used to from
Chris and Sean, and God forbid, whenever Adam found out. It was a running joke
that I had given up my room for some chick I picked up in the night. A room I
had barely settled into myself having made the move from Remington’s Caravan
Park. It had been a welcomed change, up and away from the comings and goings of
tourists in and out of the park, or the screaming kids playing cricket in the
drive outside my cabin door, or the constant smell of passive BBQ fumes and
burning mosquito coils. No, this was ideal, and when Chris suggested I take the
room upstairs I jumped at it. Close to work, close to a feed, and yet up and
away from all the goings on downstairs; the only sound was the occasional thud
of the bass from the jukebox in the poolroom, but I could handle that. I could
handle anything, except a girl stealing my bed. Not even unpacked fully from my
duffle bag, with little choice but to put her up in my room, quickly grab my
things and leave her in peace. I hadn’t thought too much of it. By morning she
would be gone and that one sleepless night on the couch would soon be
forgotten; of course, that was until my summer was gate-crashed.
    “It’s only for a week,” I told him and told
myself as if by saying it over and over again it made me feel better about it.
    Sean shrugged, his focus shifting back to
the stack of papers. “Doesn’t worry me, I won’t be here, and Chris isn’t
shifting in here till the New Year so you can crash here as long as you want.”
    The two-bedroom apartment above the hotel
was one of the things that had had a major renovation, the walls still remnant
with the acrid smell of wet paint; the hundred-year-old velvet drapes had been
replaced as had the manky old carpet. It was one of the many refurbishments
Chris and Sean had undertaken since being the new owners of the hotel. When I
hit Onslow and saw the lone, derelict hotel on the hill I thought it was my
best possible chance of employment in a small town, an extra helping hand to do
the odd job maybe, so the fact I landed a cushy job behind the bar was a bonus,
and one that was fulltime – even better. I would hardly call it a job, slinging
drinks and talking all day to anyone that would walk through the doors; it was
really a dream job, I’d talk to anyone.
    Then why did I find myself struggling to
work up enough courage to check in on Mel?
    I sighed, wiping my hand over my face as I
leant back on the chair, gauging the wall clock with a certain amount of dread.
    My break was nearly over.
    I let my chair fall forward; all the legs
touched the ground with a thud.
    Shit. I better check on her.
    “Bloody hell, Max, you’re like a cat on a
hot tin roof.” Sean smiled into his papers; he didn’t need to look up to sense
my unease. Why was I so highly strung about this? So I had to keep Bluey’s
daughter fed, watered, and in one piece for when he returned, not so much a
hair out of place