Page 29 of In the Long Run

KNOX

‘Wait, wait, Celeste. Slow down. What are you saying to me?’ I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes. Not sure how it formed considering I tossed and turned all night.

‘People from the council are here,’ she says down the phone.

That gets my attention. My gaze shifts to my watch. It’s just after eight. ‘At Alizée’s? Now? Why?’

‘They had a report from the Department of Health. Apparently, someone has complained’—her voice lowers and I hear a door close—‘that we gave their whole family food poisoning and that we have a rat problem.’

‘What?’

‘So they’re here to investigate.’

‘On a Saturday?’ I ask.

‘That’s what I said. But apparently, they were concerned enough to come out today.’

Shit. That’s not good. ‘Okay, I’ll be right there.’

I rush through getting dressed, grabbing whatever is closest and easiest.

‘Where’s the fire?’ Eugene asks when I dash into the lounge room. He’s up and dressed, sitting calmly on the couch with the notepad he’s using for all his cookbook recipes and holding a mug filled with – I sniff the air – coffee.

Telling him about Alizée’s would be a bad idea so I don’t. ‘I’ve got to duck out for a bit. You good? Need anything?’

‘Where are you going?’ Eug raises his eyebrows.

‘I, uh, I thought I might go and get some cake for Gen.’ It comes out like I’m learning to speak English, beats of silence between my words.

One, because it’s a cover story, and two, he for sure knows something’s happened with me and Gen.

But I push on, adding gestures that make it seem even more like I’ve got something to hide.

‘For our drive. Today. In case she gets hungry.’

Eugene lifts his mug calmly and watches me over the rim as he sips.

He was unsurprisingly enthusiastic when I first floated the idea of the Rail Trail Fun Run to him.

He was less enthusiastic about having Celeste crash here for two nights, but I’m not ready to leave him to fend for himself.

Despite the great progress he’s made over the last few months, he still gets tired easily and finds doing household tasks difficult.

‘That’s a nice idea,’ Eugene says. And just when I think I’ve gotten away with it, he continues, ‘You know, if you wanted to spend more time together, you could probably take that baby monitor you hid under my bed to her place. Bet it’s within range.’

My hand hovers over my keys and wallet on the bench. ‘How long have you known about that?’ I ask, trying to gauge how annoyed he is.

Eug picks up his notebook and starts thumbing through it. ‘About as long as I’ve known you’re not pretending anything with Genevieve.’

Cool, cool, cool.

‘Which one of them ratted me out?’ I tip my chin towards Madeleine and Chouquette, who are sacked out on the floor next to – but not on – the new bed I bought them last week.

‘Madeleine found the baby monitor. But it was your eyes that gave you away with Gen. It’s good, Knox. I’m happy for you.’

Christ. We’ve kissed once and Eug’s acting like we’re about to get married.

‘I like it when you’re like this,’ he continues.

‘Like what?’

‘Enjoying life. Letting yourself have the things you deserve.’

It feels important to temper his expectations, probably because I need to rein in my own as well. ‘Don’t get too excited.’

‘Don’t get scared,’ he volleys back.

‘I’m not—’ I stop because I don’t know how to finish the sentence. Scared would be downplaying it. I’m fucking terrified. That I’m going to want more than I can have. That my years of learning to be level-headed will be undone by more kisses, more touches. That I never learnt how to choose myself.

Eugene stands and walks over to me. He puts his hand on my shoulder, and the weight of it combines with the sincerity in his gaze to anchor me to the ground.

‘It was instantaneous with my Alizée. It does happen, mate. And it was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. If she was here’—he blinks and I reach up to grasp his hand—‘I’m sure she’d say the same thing. Let things develop and take your time. See where they go.’

He’s always known me better than I know myself.

I manage a smile. ‘I’ll be back soon, okay?’

I knew it was Brand. The smug bastard sits at a table in the corner of Alizée’s, sipping a takeaway coffee from the café closest to his office. The morning paper is spread across his table and his foot taps idly against the floor. He looks up, sees me and lifts his cup in salute.

I’ll deal with him later. I push through the gate in the front counter, and head down the hallway, looking for Celeste.

‘We’ll take some food samples and send them to the lab for tests,’ a deep male voice says.

‘We’ve never had an issue before. Nothing like this has ever happened,’ Celeste says. The worried edge to her voice makes me speed up.

I grab my cap and apron off their hook in the break room, not wanting to give the council any actual ammunition for what I know are baseless accusations.

‘Knox.’ Celeste sighs when I step into the kitchen before introducing me to the Environmental Health Officers. We shake hands and I have to remind myself to not cross my arms or let any of my frustration at Brand show. Being defensive isn’t the right play here. We haven’t done anything wrong.

‘Can someone please catch me up on what’s going on?’ I say.

Celeste has already explained, but I’d like to hear the officers’ version to confirm what we’re really up against. A stocky man with a friendly face and a large clipboard details the complaint against Alizée’s and their investigative process.

‘We’ve already done a tour of the kitchen, and I’ve provided a copy of all of our pest control logs,’ Celeste adds.

‘Is there anything else you need?’ It’s a struggle to keep my tone even but I manage. Just.

‘This all seems above board. We’ll run some tests to be sure, but I don’t think you’ll have any issues. This place is spotless and all your records are up to date.’

A grim smile is the best I can do.

‘We’ll get out of your hair,’ the stocky guy says, pocketing his pen and flipping his clipboard shut. The other picks up the bag containing the samples. ‘Have a good day now.’

‘Thank you,’ Celeste says.

‘Here.’ I point at the back door to the car park where their council van is parked. ‘Quicker if you go this way.’ And I’d prefer that as few people as possible see them here.

‘Well, that sucked,’ Celeste says as I shut the back door and flick the lock, giving it a jiggle when it gets stuck. I add replacing it to the list of things I need to fix at Alizée’s.

‘If anyone asks, tell them that it was a routine inspection.’

‘On a Saturday morning? I didn’t even think the council was open on the weekends.’ Her eyes are wide.

‘I think someone used their family name to call in a favour and to try to stir up trouble for us.’

‘Oh,’ she says. ‘I was so worried though. Eugene and you have trusted me to run this place and then …’

‘They’re not going to find anything in our samples,’ I say firmly. ‘This is Brand Bolton wanting to get Gen back and take control of this building for his new real estate office. And if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and have a word with him.’

But he’s not there. Like the coward he’s always been, all that’s left is the coffee cup advertising our competition.

Whatever. Let Brand pull his stupid little stunts. He’s not going to get the reaction he wants from me. It’s time to stop focusing on the stuff I can’t control and prioritise what I can, which is having fun with Gen and all the other Croissant and Kilometres members running the Rail Trail.

It’s time to do something for me. And I’m all in.

Driving in a convoy isn’t something I expected to be doing during my time off.

‘Are you sure you have enough room?’ Gen asks from the passenger seat. With Violet in the back and all our gear crammed into the Getz, it’s close quarters.

But after my altercation with Brand this morning, I’m not mad about being nice and close to Gen.

I flick on the lights even though it’s bright and sunny.

‘Force of habit,’ I say when Gen opens her mouth.

She and Violet listen as I explain about how the Army teaches that everyone in a convoy should drive with their lights on to maintain visibility and easy identification of other military vehicles.

‘Does that include the croissant on the roof?’ Gen asks, failing at keeping her expression neutral.

Her nose wrinkles and she bites her lip.

It’s very distracting, which is another thing that can be added to the list of things I’m not mad about.

Eugene’s advice felt like a plea this morning, but now, as Gen teases me, a pleased little smile lighting up her whole face, I recognise it for what it really was: a promise.

I can have nice things.

‘Do you want it to, Halliday?’ I reply and that’s it. That’s the nickname she’s been waiting for me to find. ‘Because you know I can’t say no to you.’

Gen’s surprised laugh sets all my nerves alight. Her eyes widen and that flush of hers that I’m addicted to is back.

What is happening here? Am I flirting?

And, back the truck up, am I good at it?

She ducks her head towards her chest and fusses with her hair before shaking her head and looking out the window.

Coy is an excellent look on Gen. Mischief simmers between us like the almost spring sunshine, and the air sweetens with the scent of whatever chemical reaction best describes what happens when you mix lust and mirth and pure fucking joy together.

I swear, five minutes with Gen and I’ve forgotten what a shitshow this morning was.

Who am I kidding? The soft kiss she greeted me with has already destroyed any bad feelings I’ve had today.

I flick on the switch for the croissant light. ‘You want to get out and check, Halliday?’

‘I trust you,’ she manages before letting out a soft, embarrassed giggle.

God. I want to kiss her again.

Violet heaves a sigh from the backseat and I blink. Remember we’re not alone. Shit.

‘I’m going to put my headphones in so you two can pretend I’m not here. Sorry for ruining your romantic weekend.’

I cough. ‘Not sure how romantic running thirty-five kilometres is. And what was our deal?’ I ask Violet, our gazes meeting in the rearview mirror.

She rolls her eyes at me. ‘To stop apologising for everything.’

She’d called Gen last night and said that she was going to pull out because Steven – who’s an anaesthetist, apparently – got called into the hospital and she didn’t want to drive all the way to Bright on her own. Naturally, Gen offered her a lift.

That was back when we were supposed to be driving up with Yeti in his monster truck.

His Ford F-150 Ranger would’ve been big enough for all of us without any dramas.

But Yeti fell victim to the same curse as Steven, in his case an unexpected duty shift.

And Bernie bowed out this morning because Meredith wasn’t feeling well.

Gen offered to cancel, but Meredith insisted we still go.

‘It was really nice of you to do this for me,’ Violet says. She pulls out a pair of Beats headphones, the kind that covers the whole ear, and loops them around her neck.

‘Of course.’ Gen twists in her seat. ‘We’re so happy you decided to run. You’ve worked way too hard to let a few small-minded people ruin everything.’

‘It should be illegal, you know,’ Violet says.

‘It should be,’ Gen agrees emphatically. ‘People think being behind a keyboard means there are no rules. This kind of behaviour—’

‘Oh, no,’ Violet interjects. ‘I meant you two.’

My gaze flicks to the rearview mirror again. She’s grinning at us.

‘Excuse me?’ Gen says, head swivelling as she looks between us. I shrug and resist the urge to grab her hand, rest it on my leg. Now that we’ve kissed a couple of times, I’m not sure what the rules are, which is ridiculous. How can getting closer put more distance between us?

‘You two. You’re so perfect together. So sporty and pretty and nice. Does it ever get exhausting being so wonderful? I bet no one’s said anything nasty about either of you online.’

‘I know someone has,’ I say, flicking on the indicator and merging onto the main road.

‘I stopped looking at the comments ages ago.’ Gen shrugs.

‘That’s what I should’ve done,’ Violet muses. ‘What made you finally stop?’

Gen slides on a pair of aviator sunglasses. ‘I realised that I didn’t care what people were saying. If I gave it too much attention, I’d get distracted and let it take over everything again.’

My mind snags on the word ‘again’ and when I look over at Gen, she’s inspecting her fingernails.

‘Let’s just say, plenty of people have said nasty things about me online before,’ she explains. ‘There was this whole thing at my old job. There’s a reason that prior to Croissants and Kilometres I used TikTok exclusively for watching baby goats do yoga.’

‘Oh, I’m going to do that now!’ Violet says. ‘That seems like the perfect thing to distract me from the fact that I might die tomorrow. You two talk among yourselves.’

And that’s what we do. The whole way to Bright, smiling at everyone who honks at our silly little car with a glowing croissant on top of it.