The Numbers Game (50 page)

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Authors: Frances Vidakovic

BOOK: The Numbers Game
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            “Fantastic,
just fantastic,” she had grumbled, while shuffling through the gardening and
knitting instruction guides. “Why didn’t the man just send me to a bloody
rubbish tip?” Ready to give up and succumb to the razor sharp slices of
mud-cake she’d spied passing by the patisserie, Tabitha threw the entire crap collection
of books back into the box.  And that was when it came into view, a sparking
gold pack of Tabitha’s Fortune Cards, reduced from $29.95 to $4.95.  Except on
second look they weren’t called Tabitha’s but Tatiana’s.

            “An honest
mistake, or is it a sign?” Tabitha wondered. “Yes, it’s a sign, it has to be.”

            Not long
after perusing the manual attached front to back, Tabitha declared herself
competent enough to fortune tell.

            “And who
better to read my fortune but me,” she said, ignoring the advice that reading
your own cards was bad luck. “Better the devil you know, it should say.”

            Or maybe
not… After all it was one thing to read your cards and be blessed with
beautiful images of the stars and the clover or the moon and the road, and yet
another to see the fox and the coffin, the whip and the scary scythe come up
time and time again.

            Coincidence
or not…

“I don’t
know and I don’t give a crap because this is BS anyway,” she said, throwing the
whole packet across the room.

            Why
believe in anything when half of San Francisco was doing exciting things like
packing their bags to move to LA; while she was stuck in a wallowing hell.
Worse still Tabitha couldn’t share her pain with anyone. First of all it was
embarrassing, not least because she’d already dug her own grave. The first day
Serena had queried about Rick Tabitha convincingly told her:

            “Rick?
Rick who? If you’re speaking about the old Rick well he’s history and I’m so
over him already!” Insert laugh here. Then a couple of bigger ha ha laughs.

            Second of
all, even if Tabitha did have a shoulder to cry on what was the point of it? It
wasn’t going to make Rick come running back; it wasn’t going to make the pain
go away. In times of extreme distress, outsiders only served to complicate
matters.

            “It’s just
me, myself and I kiddo.”

            Then the
doorbell rang and the trio was interrupted.

            Tabitha
froze; she had no intention of going anywhere near the door, except the blinds
were open and her visitor, if her or she should move a bit to the side, could
see quite well that she was sitting there in her pajamas on the couch. Should she
stay or should she go? Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. There was only one
viable alternative and that was to throw the tartan blanket over her head.

            “Tabitha,
are you in there?” called the voice. A male voice, unmistakably sounding
exactly like the one person she least wanted to see.

            Tabitha
closed her eyes under the blanket in hopes that he would go away. She knew what
he’d be doing in a second – moving two inches to the right and taking a peek
through the window. She also knew what he’d be seeing – a tallish tepee-like
structure located on the couch with its base feet sticking out like pathetic
human remains. Tabitha tried to pull her legs in closer to her chest but all
the movement did was make it seem as if a wild wind was rushing through the
house. An apparently empty house that is.

            “Tabitha,
is that you hiding there on the couch? If so, please open up; it’s important.”

            This time,
Tabitha did not move an iota. So what if her big red-painted toenail was
protruding? So what if there was no explainable reason for the human-shaped
object covered on the couch – other than a stupid human trying to hide under a
blanket? She was not coming out, even if it killed her.

            “Tabitha,
if you don’t come out, I’ll only have one conclusion to make from this whole
situation and that is that you love me. Do you love me lots? Is that why you
are hiding from me now?

            That
bastard. Tabitha went rigid with anger. How dare he think that blanket covering
was equal to love!

            “Gosh Tabitha
you love me that much! I never realized.” The voice gave a nervous laugh then
wavered a bit. Which was fortunate for Tabitha; she wasn’t quite ready to let
herself crack.

            “Tabitha,
are you going to open the door?” He continued to plead. It was beginning to
sound more pathetic than her hiding under the blanket. “If you do you can tell
me how you really feel. Especially if you hate me; now’s your big chance.”

            Tabitha
opened her eyes at this point. Wow a chance to tell him what a complete selfish
dimwit he is, with no balls, no heart, and no hope in life? Should she?
Shouldn’t she? Tabitha let the blanket drop and looked across to see Rick’s
face plastered to the window.

            The offer
was simply too good to refuse.

 

 

Making her way to the
door looking like an unwashed zombie, Tabitha paused for a moment before
opening it.

            Her
hesitation was to be expected. Rick the dick had treated her like a prick and
she didn’t want this chess move to be perceived as anything remotely close to
forgiveness. Tabitha wasn’t planning on forgiving Rick. She intended to hate
him forever and ever. Putting on the best grimace she could muster, Tabitha
wanted to make that quite clear from the start.

            “Yes?” she
said after she opened the door, using the most sarcastic, uninterested voice in
her artillery.  “What the feck do you want?”

            On the
doorstep, Rick was standing with what looked like twenty dozen mixed white,
pink and gold long-stemmed roses in his arms. Using the flowers as a protective
barrier, he smiled a hello and haggled his way past Tabitha into her kitchen.

            “What
the...” The total lack of respect displayed by Rick made Tabitha throw both
hands up in the air and clasp her head at the temples. “Excuse me but this
happens to be my home you are barging into, a home, which coincidentally you
are not welcome at.”

            “I know,”
Rick said, pulling three vases from the upper shelf in the kitchen and filling
each with water. How did he even know they were there? Tabitha usually had to
open and shut at least ten cupboards before hitting jackpot. “There,” he said,
once he was done separating and arranging the flowers. “Now for you,” he
continued, turning to face Tabitha.

            The look
on Rick’s face - all naughty but nice - made Tabitha want to stamp her feet
even more and throw a big tantrum.  “Listen you little prick…” she began. But
Rick put a stop to it with a finger to her lips.

            “Shh! Just
for a second.” Before she could do anything, Rick grabbed Tabitha by the hand
and idly dragged her back into the living room. “I’m afraid this time you’re
going to have to listen to me. No ifs, no buts…” he repeated as Tabitha started
to protest again. He eased her gently, clearly trying to avoid force, down into
the couch. “Just listen.”

            “Here’s
the story. In about five minutes, I am going to blindfold you and take you to a
secret destination. If you aren’t willing to see where this is heading just say
the word right now and it will be obeyed.”

            Tabitha
went to open her mouth but the attempt was again thwarted by Rick’s soft
finger.

            “Before
you say what you are thinking, hear me out. I know I’ve been an idiot, a total
wanker. I deserve all the abuse you are obviously so eager to lay on me.” He
paused and smiled at Tabitha on the couch. “You can keep on nodding, honey, I
don’t mind. Just give me one last chance to share something with you. I won’t
ask for anything else. Will you give me that chance?”

            Tabitha
frowned, as if giving it some serious thought.

            “Where are
you taking me?” she asked finally, the curiosity getting the better of her. Tabitha
had always wanted a surprise but never had one sprung on her.

            At that
moment Rick knew he was in.

            “Oh no, no
Tabitha, there will be no asking questions.” He pulled a black long scarf from
out of his back pocket. Tabitha was surprised she missed it; it would’ve looked
like a hump growing out of Rick’s ass. “No questions hereon until we get to
final destination. You can talk but nothing with a question mark attached to
the end. Those are the rules.”

            “What if I
break the rules?” Tabitha ventured, wondering if he’d pick up on that
query.    

            But it
slid ride past Rick.

            “Break the
rules and we turn back, as simple as that.”

            “Oh
simple,” Tabitha smiled. “I can go with that.”

            Letting
Rick tie the scarf firmly around her eyes, Tabitha’s world soon descended into
darkness. It was time for total surrender. Rick guided her up off the couch and
as they made their way to the front entrance, neither of the two was sure if
the other knew just how much of sucker they were.

 

 

Chapter 35

 

 

 

“So where are we
going?” Tabitha asked, twenty minutes into their car journey.

            She truly
couldn’t help it. Tabitha knew what she was doing was akin to eternal sin but
best make it clear to Rick straight away: patience was not one of her
strengths.

            “I’m sorry
but I can’t handle it. The pattern in which you’re driving is driving me crazy.
Sometimes it’s left; sometimes it’s right, I know we passed the Golden Gate
before but God only knows where we are now. Are you going to give me a clue?”

            “No clues,
except that pretty soon you will need some ID. Oh crap,” Rick slapped his
forehead. “I forgot to ask, you do have ID on you right?”

            “Never
leave home without it,” Tabitha replied, lifting her cream clutch out of her
lap. It was a last minute request she put forth to Rick before being shoved out
of the house. Her survival kit, it contained a lipstick, cover stick,
breath-freshener spray, driver’s license, credit card and emergency $20 note.

            “Good,
good, good. Let’s see then. When we’re at this next place, I will need you to
keep calm and not act like I’m a terrorist or kidnapper of some sort.”

            “You want
me to lie? In your dreams Bin Laden!”

            “I’m
serious Tabitha, just play with me. For at least the next two hours you will be
my soon to be fiancée and I am whisking you away on the romantic surprise of
your life.”

            “What do
you mean away?” Tabitha inquired, just as the first sound of jumbo jets flies
overhead. “No way, you’re taking me to the airport. I don’t believe it.”

            At moments
like this, it was hard for a girl to stay mad at her captor.

“Tabitha,
you really need to calm down. Relax. Nothing dreadful is going to happen to
you.”

            “I know, I
know,” she moaned, despite being barely able to contain herself.  “It’s just the
blindfold is cutting into my eye and I’m dressed as if I really am
vision-impaired and haphazardly raided my closet. Obviously when I put this rubbish
on I wasn’t expecting this.”

            “So what
were you expecting?”

            “Honestly?”
Tabitha said. She let out a sigh. “From you, I expect nothing. Deep down I
still hate you Rick despite your best attempts to melt the Ice Maiden with your
Casanova routine.”

            “Is it at
least working?” Rick dared to ask.

            “We’ll
see,” Tabitha replied, “We’ll see soon enough.”

 

 

As predicted, Rick and
Tabitha did in fact board a plane that night, the six-forty five flight to Los Angeles.

            Much as
he’d have liked, the earplugs plus earmuffs Rick insisted Tabitha wear hadn’t
quite done the trick. The booming archaic voice of airline’s pilot still
infiltrated the padding.

            “We wish
to inform you that this flight will take approximately one hour twenty six
minutes and we hope it is a pleasant and comfortable journey for all,” Mister
Pilot informed his passengers, “refreshments will be served shortly.”

            If
anything, Tabitha had hoped the farce would end here and that the blindfold could
be stripped.  After all, what was the point of a blindfold when she knew the
destination? More importantly, she hadn’t been to LA by airplane since she was
eight so a bit of peering out the window during landing wouldn’t go astray. Neither
would looking at her more immediate surroundings. Tabitha knew she was in first
class, the moment the attentive air hostess directed Rick and her up a wide-ish
set of steps. Normally all she heard upon boarding was:

            “Keep to
your left, down past the second set of toilets.”

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