“Aggie?”
Des is watching me with careful eyes. “You okay?”
“No, Des. I’m bloody not.”
He nods. “Makes sense. You gave those boys a proper serve, but you weren’t wrong about anything.”
“Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta knock sense into them.”
His mouth twitches into a smile. “You care about those girls.”
A flicker of warmth cuts through my fear. “Course I do. They’re my girls.”
“So…” Des clears his throat. “That advice you gave them. Stand up when it counts, tell the truth. Does that apply to everyone?”
“Only advice worth giving.”
“That’s good to know.”
The air shifts between us, a quiet that’s full of things that have gone unsaid for years.
I gesture toward the kitchen. “If you’ve got something you want to say, let’s hear it before I start the dishes.”
He swallows hard. “You know… You’ve gotta know… I-I love you, Aggie.”
Something fragile stirs in my chest. Not forgiveness exactly, maybe more like tenderness, with a big side of exasperation. “I know, Des. You’ve made that pretty clear.”
He rubs his fist over hischest, his worn knuckles dragging against the faded denim shirt. “I’m sorry about what happened back then. All that with Gwen. I buggered it completely. But I mean it, I’ve always loved you.”
“And I already told you, Des. I know.” I can’t keep myself from smiling. Just a little. “Thanks for saying it, anyway.”
A grin breaks across his face, bright as a sunrise. “So, are we finally going on that date? Dinner and all that?”
“No.”
His face falls.
“… But I’ve got a bit of time off work thanks to this bloody mouse situation. You might be able to take me to dinner sometime next week, then we’ll see.”
His grin returns with interest. “I’ll take it. Need a hand with the dishes?”
“Why not?”
We clean together side by side, rinsing, stacking, wiping. The kind of work that always eases my nerves, and somewhere between the soap and the silence, I decide to break my own rule. Des is coming back to mine tonight. Not because I’m so swept up in his declaration of love, but because it’ll probably be hours until Jake and Davis find the girls, and I can’t clean forever. A warm body is a better distraction than cigarettes, and after everything I’ve gone through today, I’ll permit myself another vice.
“Ready to go?” Des asks when the dishes are done. “I can give you a ride home, if you like?”
“Need a cig first, but sure.”
“I won’t try and come in or anything, I promise.”
“Well,” I say, my heart pounding a little faster. “Thing is, my sink’s been stuffed for weeks. Could you take a look at it?”
Des looks away, fighting back a smile. “Sure, Aggie.”
We lock up and slip out the back door, and head into the carpark arm in arm. I’m fishing in my skirt pocket for my smokes when a string-bean of a kid steps out from behind a Honda Civic. He looks about twelve, all elbows and bleached hair.
“You right, mate?” Des asks, his hand shifting to my back.
