Richer Ground Read Free Page A

perhaps she preferred it that way. She'd had two brief and unsuccessful relationships in her life. A long time ago. One resulted in Ali and the other in Radleigh, her older brother. Neither of them had any contact with their dads any more.
    They both had unusual names. Her mum said a name really mattered. Why pick something ordinary? That's what her own mother Zita, Ali's nana, had told her, and she was passing it down the generations.
    “It was so busy. I'm dead.” She flopped on the sofa next to her with a groan.
    “Hard work's good for you Ali... It's food for the soul.” And then they both laughed. Mum was full of these little sayings.
    “Is Rad in?” she asked.
    “Not yet. He's at work and then going to town.”
    Alista worried about him. She'd found out he was into something. Little pills and worse. It had started after his girlfriend of six months had dumped him. She didn't want to tell her mum, she knew she'd be so upset. So she'd kept it between the two of them. But she'd given him a real ear bashing about it. Radleigh worked in a bowling alley, in the office, since he'd left school at sixteen. He did all right, and was the assistant manager now, at twenty four. She didn't want him to blow it, because she'd seen what drugs did to people. They ruined minds, bodies, and lives. Fast. Much faster than drinking. One of her uni friends became a prostitute as a result of her habit. She got hooked on dope and then coke.
    She hoped he was being sensible. She sent him a quick text, a subtle reminder. She did it a lot.
    “Having a good time bro? Be good. :)”
    And got a fast reply.
    “Im always good :)”
    “Really???”
    “Don't do that stuff anymore. I was getting over Kirsty, thats all. Chill.”
    “Luv ya.”
    She got on well with her half brother, apart from that. They were close.
    “Well, I'm off to bed,” she announced, taking her shoes off and dragging herself up.
    “I'll be up soon,” her mum replied. “Night love.”
    “Night Mum.” She dropped a kiss on her cheek and made her way upstairs and into her tidy room. She liked it that way. It was ordered and clean and beautiful. Unlike his, next door. Mum didn't go in his room, or hers. It was their private domain. Radleigh's room was a tip. Pizza boxes piled high in the corner. A mound of empty cans and rubbish everywhere. It smelled sweaty and God knows what else.
    Uggghhh, disgusting.
    She couldn't imagine Richer living like Radleigh did.
     
    Her head hit the pillow and she sighed with pleasure at its fragrant, soft feathered luxury. She didn't want to, but she thought about Richer as she drifted off to sleep. She could still feel the touch of his lips on hers, vividly, and she brushed them with her finger.
    He'd made her toes melt.
    She quite liked him really, Mr Flashy. Despite what she'd said to his face.
     
     
     
    Chapter 3
     
     
    “Ah, there you are Alista… Do you have an hour to spare?” Mrs Simpson swanned up to the bar, in a cloud of Chanel, where she was cleaning, as usual. Ali was of the opinion that life was one big clean up job. Cleaning bodies, hair, floors, the bar, glasses, houses, windows, cars... She hoped heaven stayed clean without any work.
    “Sure, if Tim doesn't mind?” She looked at the bar manager for confirmation.
    “We can manage. It's all nearly done anyway. Greta and I will check the pumps. Off you go. Take as long as you like.” He gave her a big wink. He was a lovely manager. Very complimentary and cheerful. He could do with losing some weight though. He was fifty and in that danger zone. His waistline screamed of potential diabetes. When she got to know him better she might mention it, tactfully, somehow.
    She followed Mrs Simpson to the golf clubhouse which was called Medusa's. It was open for light snacks, coffee and drinks, throughout the day, and catered to the golfers completing the Nine Holes of Hades...
    Cheryl, a young mum who had been working there for a few years, was texting on her phone behind