Minnie Chase Makes a Mistake Page 12

  Minnie shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine. I’m still here.’

  ‘Then your heart must be in great shape,’ said the woman smiling. ‘Ain’t that a good thing?’

  Minnie smile back faintly, completely unconvinced.

  11

  Road trip

  Time, for Minnie, was a sequence of numbers, to be organised and manipulated. Other people gave time an emotional resonance: I had a good time or it was an awful time or we had the best time of our lives.

  On this occasion, the numbers amounted to this: a little over 27 hours under the roof of a Californian jail. Minnie avoided the emotional context and instead focused on the mathematical perspective.

  She mentally manipulated the numbers. According to her calculations, this time had different faces such as 97,242 seconds; 27(e+7) or 1.3943e-7 of a decade.

  Then she realised that it didn’t matter how she worked it out, it was time she would never get back.

  She had been locked up and couldn’t sit still. Most of the others sunk into a morbid stupor or fell asleep, an incredible accomplishment considering the harsh lighting and noise, Minnie paced and counted. She followed the grey line without violating rules and continued her perimeter walk. She walked and thought; counting steps and guessing measurements from liquid volumes to rooms filled with feathers. Her mind couldn’t sit still, which meant she had to keep her body moving, too.

  Then a guard called out her name. She ventured near the door mindful not to cross the line. Without any fanfare or enthusiasm, he told her that it was time to go. The charges against her had been dropped.

  Minnie was free to go.

  She didn’t lunge at the door, which surprised her. She had become institutionalised. She suffered a moment of leaver’s regret. She said goodbye to the women and almost wanted to exchange phone numbers because she was so grateful that no one had killed her or permanently tattooed her against her wishes.

  The security guard wrenched open the cell door, an orchestral jangle of keys and chains. His circumference matched his height. He had a strong stuffed-crust pizza aroma about him and a slight sweat caused from walking all the way from his office to her cell. Damp around the edges, he stood puffing to get his breath back.

  ‘Miranda Chase?’ He checked his paperwork.

  Minnie nodded obediently.

  ‘Follow me.’

  Minnie smoothed down her skirt.

  She followed him at a snail’s pace. He had a curious gait. Like a ship keeling in a storm. He rolled back and forth as he walked, a careful balancing act that was curiously graceful and slow.

  Minnie was exhausted and unsure what to do next. ‘Do I need to call a lawyer?’ she asked. She was worried that there would be trouble with her Visa and immigration would keep her at the airport forever.

  The guard rolled his eyes; a look that seemed to sum up an unfavourable opinion of women in general. ‘No, you don’t need a lawyer,’ he said dryly. ‘You need a ride. Or a bus fare. Unless you wanna walk through the desert.’

  ‘I can go?’ Minnie wanted to be absolutely sure.

  ‘People don’t tend to hang around once charges have been dropped.’

  Minnie peered out of the window. The streets had disappeared. There was no classic architecture or iconic bridges painted red.

  It didn’t take a great stretch of the imagination to think this place was part of a forgotten moonscape; a spectacular dumping ground for lost souls. There was a panoramic view of sun-scorched nothingness.

  She whispered, bewildered. ‘Where is this place?’

  ‘Ain’t got time for no geography lesson. Pay phone’s over there,’ came the answer.

  Minnie’s phone was out of charge and she had no change. She reversed the charges. One phone call later, she was outside, in the shade of some parched trees, on the outdoor seating reserved for visitors. No one was around.

  She waited for Jackson to come and get her.

  Jackson’s enormous truck kicked up a tornado of dust as it bounced at speed down the road to where Minnie was waiting. She had been sitting rigidly upright in the same place for over three hours, too frightened to go back inside the building even though the midday heat was reaching its thick, suffocating peak.

  Jackson took a wide circle around the seating area and skidded to a stop so the vehicle was facing the road he had just driven down. This made perfect sense to Minnie: quick getaway.

  She stood up and hurried over to where he had parked. He leaned out of his window, eyebrows up, never taking his eyes off her as she approached. ‘Interesting accommodation,’ he said.

  ‘It’s complicated,’ said Minnie, never so glad to see someone in her entire life.

  Jackson jumped out and made his way around the front of the truck so he could open the passenger door for Minnie. ‘I could have recommended a motel,’ he said, a big smile on his friendly face.

  Minnie didn’t answer. She climbed into the truck, almost shaking with relief, struggling to keep her composure. She could feel dizziness setting in, suspecting it was through dehydration as much as trauma. She fell back into the seat and closed her eyes. Don’t cry!

  Jackson looked momentarily concerned but stuck to trademark cheerful to see if he could lift her spirits. He said, ‘Look at it this way, we get to spend some quality time together on the ride back to San Francisco.’

  Quality time, thought Minnie. Or three hours and 48 minutes for me.

  Arriving by helicopter, leaving by Dodge Ram, Minnie knew how to get around. She slumped in the seat next to Jackson, her eyes fixed on the image in the wing mirror, watching the correctional facility get smaller and smaller.

  They drove in silence for a while. Jackson kept glancing over at her. Minnie could tell he was desperate to know what had happened and with good reason. It wasn’t every day that he was called upon to collect someone from jail.

  ‘Arrested, huh?’

  ‘I can’t talk about it.’

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m so thirsty,’ Minnie whispered, spotting a sign for a Chevron Gas Station up ahead.

  Jackson nodded. He didn’t ask any more questions until the truck came to a stop outside the convenience store.

  The water helped. Minnie felt less nauseous and more level-headed. It also helped to put distance between her and the appalling lock-up situation she had just endured.

  Back on the road, radio on, Jackson said above the music, ‘I’m guessing you found the businessman and he wasn’t too pleased to be found.’

  Minnie sighed and nodded.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?’

  Minnie nodded again and changed the subject. ‘How’s the girlfriend?’ She was almost afraid to ask. She didn’t want to be implicated in more crimes.

  ‘You mean the one who was cheating on me with my coach?’

  ‘Do you have more than one girlfriend?’ asked Minnie, rolling her eyes.

  ‘I have an ex-girlfriend,’ he replied. He didn’t look too broken-hearted.

  ‘Oh, no. I feel responsible now.’ Minnie was still acutely embarrassed that she had hacked into the girl’s phone.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ said Jackson with a shrug. ‘Your illegal secrets are safe with me.’

  ‘You didn’t confront her about the text messages?’ Minnie’s eyes widened in surprise but she was relieved.

  He shook his head. ‘I have some pride.’

  ‘What about your coach?’

  ‘He got left behind, too,’ said Jackson with a small smile of self-satisfaction. ‘When the Mavericks Invitational releases its list of big-wave surfers and your name is on it, more than one coach becomes interested.’ He winked. ‘Karma, baby.’

  ‘How did you break up with your girlfriend?’ asked Minnie, curiosity getting the better of her.

  ‘I told her I’d met someone else,’ he said, smiling, unable to resist teasing Minnie.

  Minnie smiled but it brought back the horror moment when she had walked into the bed
room and caught her husband-to-be in bed with Licky Vicki. She imagined the worse-case scenario: he had met someone else.

  ‘Do you miss him?’ asked Jackson intuitively picking up on Minnie’s thoughts.

  ‘James George?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She nodded desperately. ‘I need to get back to him.’

  ‘You do?’ Jackson looked doubtful.

  ‘Yes. It’s like he is the only person in the world who can recharge me, get me back into a useable state again.’ She tried to make a joke. ‘Low-battery warning. Beep, beep…’

  ‘Serious stuff.’

  ‘I suppose it is.’ Minnie missed James George more than ever.

  Jackson tapped the steering wheel in time to the music. ‘You should consider a solar-powered solution instead. Spend more time in the sunshine like me. With me.’

  Minnie sank into silence. She couldn’t bear to break up with James George and move on without him. She wished she had emotions as cut and dried as Jackson. He had put a broken relationship behind him and kept his self-respect in one piece. She was an embarrassingly clinging, wronged woman who couldn’t do the right thing: turn around and walk away, right now. She loathed her misplaced devotion and the conflict between her head and her heart.

  ‘He hasn’t called?’ asked Jackson.

  ‘We’ve spoken,’ said Minnie.

  ‘But he’s not ringing your cell phone off the hook?’

  Minnie answered, a little snappishly, ‘He is in London. I am in San Francisco. There is an eight-hour time difference.’

  Jackson shrugged. ‘Wouldn’t make a difference to me.’

  They drove on. Jackson suggested a bathroom break, which also involved filling up on fuel. He refused Minnie’s money for gas so she bought him a Hershey bar instead and promised him dinner. Then they drove on some more.

  ‘Please tell me what you did to get arrested?’ asked Jackson. The intrigue was killing him.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ said Minnie, sipping more water.

  Jackson pointed at the straight road ahead that stretched for miles and miles into the distance. It seemed to cut right through the centre of the earth. ‘It’s a long road, and I’m a good listener.’

  Minnie opened up. Talking to Jackson did help. Minnie could feel the tension and frustration start to ease fractionally. She could also clearly see just how hopeless the ‘Greene’ situation was. As the highway signs started to show this road trip was coming to an end, Minnie had made up her mind. There was no reason for her to remain in San Francisco. It was time to go home. Although she had spectacularly failed at reversing the damage she had done to Greene, it was perfectly clear that she couldn’t make a difference if he refused to let her help.

  Jackson, meanwhile, was still shaking his head. His familiar sunshine smile had faded quickly when Minnie talked him through what had happened. ‘I can’t believe you were Tasered,’ he said, eyes popping wide. ‘I think you should sue his ass.’

  ‘I will survive,’ said Minnie quietly, imagining the futileness of building a case against the great Greene legal team.

  Jackson reached over and spontaneously squeezed her hand. She squeezed it back. Then she felt uncomfortable. It was more a fatal distraction moment than a fatal attraction one. She said, ‘You should keep both hands on the wheel. Driving with one hand increases reaction time. We are an accident waiting to happen.’

  Minnie continued to look out the window lost in thought, watching the unfamiliar world slip by.

  ‘When did you last have fun?’ asked Jackson, determined to cheer her up.

  ‘I know how to have fun,’ replied Minnie, indignant.

  ‘I didn’t ask you that. I asked when did you last have fun?’

  Minnie faltered. ‘You’re asking me to give you an example… like the last time… well, the hardest part is narrowing down choices…’

  ‘I’ve got all the time in the world,’ said Jackson.

  Birds could have built nests and hatched eggs in the time it took Minnie to eventually come up with an honest answer. ‘I can’t remember when I last had fun,’ she said quietly, which was an alarming admission for someone who remembered everything.

  ‘You deserve flowers every day,’ said Jackson, ruffling her hair.

  Minnie placed his hand back on the steering wheel. She said, ‘That would be a huge mistake.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I intensely dislike cut flowers. There is no pleasure watching a beautiful bouquet shrivel and die.’

  ‘You could enjoy the moment,’ said Jackson looking on the bright side.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘What’s the alternative - chocolates?’

  ‘Chocolates are acceptable.’ She paused and pictured a birthday party. It was James George’s birthday tomorrow. This thought was accompanied with more enormous sadness. She said quietly, ‘Or helium balloons.’

  ‘Balloons die too, y’know,’ responded Jackson quick off the mark. He whistled through his teeth to mimic the sad sound of a deflating balloon.

  Minnie was equally quick to respond. ‘Yes, but I can let balloons go before the inevitable happens. Now you see them, now you don’t.’

  Jackson smiled an annoyingly secret smile to himself. He was a strangely perceptive guy. Minnie could see this in the way he looked at her. It was as though he could see the real her – and she wasn’t usually a letting-go kind of girl.

  Jackson pulled into the parking lot of the diner across the road from Minnie’s motel. ‘C’mon. Let’s eat,’ he said. ‘Didn’t you promise me dinner?’

  Minnie was about to protest because she was feeling exhausted. The shock of the last 48 hours was starting to really sink in. Then she realised that she was ravenous. Unsurprisingly, prison food had not tempted her.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, looking at her watch, ‘but I won’t make a great dinner companion.’

  ‘I don’t need conversation,’ said Jackson, springing from the vehicle. ‘I need food.’ He strode round and opened Minnie’s door. He looked strong, tanned and toned. Minnie surprised herself with the thought that James George, in comparison, was more nocturnal by nature. He was pale and soft. Different.

  Jackson offered Minnie his arm. ‘I figured you might need some help getting down.’

  ‘I might not look particularly athletic but I can negotiate steps,’ said Minnie defensively. She took his arm nonetheless. She had a detailed flashback to gymnastic Licky Vicki in her bed and suddenly felt horribly insecure.

  ‘Come surfing with me,’ said Jackson. He looked serious.

  Minnie looked alarmed. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘You will love it.’ He raised his hands in enthusiasm. ‘What’s not to love?’

  She tried to make a joke. ‘The only surfing I do involves an Internet connection.’

  ‘You’re scared.’

  ‘I’m a mathematician,’ said Minnie. ‘Odds versus probability. I conclude that I would hate surfing.’

  Jackson looked unconvinced.

  Entering the diner Minnie received a welcoming nod from her waitress, Sarah-Jane. As Jackson came through the door, clearly with Minnie, an eyebrow was briefly raised in Minnie’s direction that seemed to say, ‘catch of the day’. Once settled comfortably in a booth, Minnie ordered a pasta dish while Jackson ordered just about everything on the menu.

  ‘High metabolic rate,’ he explained, when he caught Minnie staring at him.

  The banquet of food arrived and Jackson encouraged Minnie to try something of everything. She picked a little, not as hungry as she thought she was.

  He sprawled on the seat opposite, feet planted wide apart as though there was an invisible fixture between his knees. Minnie, once again, couldn’t help comparing him to James George who liked to sit with his legs crossed or knees pressed together.

  Minnie didn’t have to worry about making conversation. Jackson talked about the surfing forecast, the size of wave breaks, his training schedule under a new coach and a brief history of
the Mavericks.

  She was still no more interested in surfing than before but she liked listening to him talk.

  ‘We could be good together,’ said Jackson, offering her a taste of his strawberry milkshake.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ replied Minnie with a polite smile, declining the milkshake and Jackson’s suggestion. She had managed to eat some more and was starting to feel better.

  ‘Give me one good reason,’ he said.

  She considered her answer carefully while sipping her water. Then she said, ‘Because you’re more a “Victoria’s Secret” type of person whereas I’m more Victoria Sponge.’

  Jackson chuckled and, for a second, looked as though he was imagining supermodels in designer underwear. ‘Are you saying I can’t have my cake and eat it?’

  Minnie smiled despite herself. ‘I’m saying exactly that.’

  Jackson turned his attention back to the menu. The mention of cake had made him hungry again.

  ‘We need to order the apricot pie. It looks awesome.’

  Jackson, noted Minnie, was fond of hyperbole, whereas she had never had the occasion to use the word ‘awesome’ in her life. This made her a little bit sad, too.

  Then he noticed her shoulders sag. ‘We’ll order the pie to go. I’ll walk you back to your motel.’

  Minnie stood facing Jackson on the pavement outside the motel.

  ‘Thank you for coming to get me today,’ she said. ‘I know you are training for the competition. The round-trip – and then dinner – well, I’ve almost taken up your entire day.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Jackson graciously. ‘I’d say any time but you don’t look like a repeat offender to me.’

  Minnie smiled. ‘You’re right. There is a first and last time for everything.’

  ‘This feels like goodbye,’ said Jackson.

  Minnie nodded. ‘I’m going home.’

  ‘Back to London?’

  Minnie nodded. ‘Tomorrow, if I can get on a flight.’

  ‘You did what you could.’

  ‘It wasn’t enough.’

  Jackson pulled her into a suffocating bear hug. ‘Goodbye Minnie Chase,’ he said, his voice muffled in her hair. ‘I sure hope you find what you’re looking for. But if you don’t, well… you’ve got my number, yeah? I’d still love to take you out surfing or for a six-dollar burger. So if you ever change your mind…’