Overtime by Karen Uttien

Saturday, 6.10pm

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Liam muttered, pulling into the petrol station.

Ten minutes earlier

‘Please.  Please,’ the girl begged. 

Against his better judgement, Liam tapped the address into google, and took the cash. 

‘Thank-you soooo much!’ she said, helping her inebriated friend into the car, before skipping back to the busy beer-garden.

‘You okay?’ Liam asked, watching his young passenger’s head wobble in the rear-view mirror.

In her defence – she did try to open the window.  But the rainbow projectile flew with such force, it wouldn’t have made any difference.

8pm

Two hours later, Liam was still hosing out the remnants.  Still furious with himself for agreeing to take her in the first place.  The stench would last for at least 24hrs, costing him the weekend.  All for a measly twenty bucks.

As he leaned against the car, waiting for the mats to dry, his phone pinged.

Jesus, man.  How many times did he have to tell “Waves” to delete him from the group chat.  They knew he couldn’t afford to go on the trip.  They knew all his savings went towards the deposit.  Naturally, he didn’t tell them the deposit for Nadine’s engagement ring.  Yeah.  Nah.  No-one liked Nadine much.

But before Nadine, Liam was an idle beach bum.  Well, that’s how she saw him. 

‘I rank fairly high on the national circuit – ’ he tried to explain.  He also worked for Billabong when he wasn’t chasing waves.  But she was quite right.  It was time to get a real job.

Now, thanks to Nadine’s connections, he was a full-time car salesman.  Nadine had him focused on what really mattered.  Money.  Money bought lifestyle.  And Liam wanted to give Nadine the lifestyle she deserved.

From the moment he laid eyes on her, Liam was besotted.  That tiny bikini jogging along Nusa Dua beachfront.  Golden hair swaying across her bronzed, slender back.  Barely breathing, he watched his dream disappear into The St Regis.

Later that day, determined to meet her, he trekked from the surf camp and found her sipping cocktails by the resort pool.

‘You’re blocking my sun,’ she said, irritated. 

‘Hi-lo – ’ he stammered, making her look up.

‘Well, aren’t you a cutie?’ she smiled, peering over her sunglasses.  ‘Be a doll and get me another one of these.’

Almost a year on, and still besotted, Liam planned to propose.  Unfortunately, without this weekend’s wage, he would have to wait another week before paying off the ring.

8.15pm

‘Mate, you free?’

‘Yeah, but nah.  Early accident.  Finished for the night.’

‘I don’t mind the stench, mate.’

‘Nah.  Company policy, sorry.’

‘Cash.  Make it worth your while,’ he said, pulling out a hundred-dollar bill.  Liam assessed the man properly.  Jeez, did he reek of dirty money.  ‘Ten-minute ride, at most.’

Liam thought about it.  He still wouldn’t be able to pick up the ring, but it would help pay for the Don Perignon.

‘Okay.  Best sit in the front.’  Liam said, putting the mats back in.  ‘Where to?’

‘Don’t know the actual address.  I’ll direct you.’

‘What’s plans?’  Liam asked, wondering why a man swathed in Versace would need a taxi.

‘Catching up with a friend,’ he said, winking.

‘Ah, friends with benefits.’

‘Just back in town for the weekend.  Haven’t seen her for a while.  Family friend’s daughter,’ he said, looking out the window.  ‘And you – this your full-time gig?’

‘Nah.  Just weekends.  Sales during the week.’

‘No time to play then?’

‘Nah.’

‘Ever thought about doing something else?’

‘Yeah plenty!  But just want to get ahead now.  Buy a house.  Marry.  Kids.  You know.’

‘How about driving for me?  It’ll get you where you want to be in no time.’

‘What do you mean – driving?’

‘Delivering packages.  A courier, I suppose.’

‘What sort of packages?’

‘Small.  Light.’

‘I mean – what’s in the packages?’

‘Not important.  Left here, mate,’ he said, and began to msg.

They drove down the tree-lined boulevard.  Each mansion surrounded by two-meter-high brick walls with wrought iron gates and family emblems.

‘Right.  Where the gates are opening.’

Liam indicated, and drove slowly down the long, gravel driveway.  Pulling up by the fountain, in front of the marble stairs.

‘Thanks mate.  An extra green one for the good conversation.’  He got out, then leaned back in.  ‘Here’s my card,’ he said, tapping Liam on the arm.  ‘Think about it.’

Liam watched him make his way up the stairs.  The doors opened, and two King Charles cavaliers ran down to greet him.  Right behind them, a young woman.  Golden hair cascading down her slender back.  Her arms outstretched as the man swept her up, carrying her back into the house.

*

His heart pounding, vision blurred – Liam drove out the gates, and pulled up by the kerb. 

Hugging the steering wheel.  He let his head fall into his arms, and waited for the ringing to subside.

What the fuck just happened?!

*

Liam had never been to Nadine’s parents’ house.  Not once, in the twelve months they’d been dating.  Jesus.  Come to think of it, he’d only ever met them once.  By accident.  When they came to collect the new Ferrari.

He knew they were in the export trade.  But Nadine was vague.  And he never delved.  Why would he?  She was happy.  Always busy.  Lunching.  Accompanying her parents to opening nights and charity galas.  Networking, she called it.

Right.  Networking.  Family friends.  Recruiters of dumb fuck taxi drivers.  Jesus. 

*

Laughing out loud, Liam picked up his phone.  This dumb fuck had a whole lot of waves to catch.

Karen Uttien

Image: Solitary surfer riding a huge wave from Pixabay.com