Fry Read Free Page B

I brought my winter coat just in case. 
    Deacon has stripped down to his vest. His longish dark hair glistens with sweat and he hauls cast iron garden furniture around as if it weighed no more than paper. He is so engrossed in what he’s doing, he doesn’t notice us watching him. 
    “Hey, Deacon! I’m here!” I wave my arms to get his attention.
    “Oh, hi.” He sets down the chair he was carrying.
    “This is Alicia. She brought beer.”
    “Ah, my kind of woman!”
    “Want one?” Alicia asks, shyly.
    “I wouldn’t say no.”
    She breaks a can from the pack and tosses it in his direction. He catches it with ease and peels back the tab to take a long slug.
    “You have a lovely house,” she ventures, looking at him from under her long dark lashes.
    Deacon beams. “I can give you a tour if you like, once I’ve got the barbecue going.”
    “That would be lovely.”
    He puts down his beer and begins setting up the barbecue, laying down charcoal and pouring on lighter fluid.
    “Damn, I’m out of matches. Isabel, can I borrow your lighter?”
    I poke around in my pocket. “Sorry - I must have left it at home.”
    He looks at Alicia. “You got one?”
    She shakes her head. “Sorry.”
    “Never mind, I’ll go and ask Rhett.”
    He walks back to the house, while Alicia looks at me inquisitively.
    “Maybe we can help?” she suggests shyly.
    “How?”
    She walks over to the rock garden and digs around in the dirt.
    I wrinkle up my nose. “What are you doing?”
    She picks something up.
    “What’s that?”
    “Flints.”
    I watch, half amused, half fascinated as she stands over the barbecue, rubbing them furiously together.
    “Alicia, I don’t think that’s going to work,”
    She is so determined, that for a moment, I almost believe that the barbecue has started to smoulder, that there are wisps of hot, grey smoke rising from the coals. I can almost sense it in my nostrils, though it can only be a trick of the light.
    “You found a lighter then,” says Deacon, when he comes back out.
    “What?”
    I glance back at the barbecue. It’s undeniable now. There are actual flames. I go over and hold my hands over them, unable to believe that they are being warmed by something Alicia created so quickly, so craftily.
    “Nice work.”
    “Alicia did it all herself!” 
    He looks at her approvingly, but I don’t think he gets my meaning. 
    “Nice,” he repeats. “Isabel, can you start setting out the food? Rhett’s still fannying about with the cocktails.”
    People start to arrive. They are strangers, mostly; Rhett’s mates from the rugby club, their work colleagues and neighbours. No sign of Kate yet.
    “Anything I can do to help?” I ask Deacon, a little bored.
    “Yeah – can you watch the barbecue for a few minutes?”
    “OK – where are you off to?”
    “I promised your friend a tour of the house, remember?”
    Something gets caught in my throat.
    “On second thoughts, maybe someone else should mind the barbecue – I’d hate to burn the burgers! Here,” I pick up the tongs and hand them to the nearest man. “You can watch the barbecue for a bit, can’t you?”
    I don’t even wait for his reply.
    Deacon strides through the house, pointing out a window seat here and an antique dining table there. Alicia admires the baby grand piano in the sitting room and the grandfather clock in the hall. I know this house almost as well as I know my own, but I trail after them regardless, joining in with the oohs and aahs in the appropriate places. We explore various rooms on the first and second floors, and then head up the stairs to the third floor, Deacon’s room, which smells of his own distinctive scent.
    It’s quite clean for a man’s room, apart from the unmade bed. He doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about this as he pushes open the French windows, through which there is a balcony that overlooks the water.
    “I can’t believe you live here!” gasps Alicia. Her face is flushed with