Chapter 4 Encounters

Alex had met Rhiannon on a call out one night. He was hoping for some excitement, and he sure got it. It was 11pm, a Saturday night, but in Widgeree that didn't mean constant call outs and neighbour complaints like it did in inner city Melbourne, or even in Mt Thomas. In Widgeree, it meant exactly the same as it did every other night – quiet quiet quiet. Nothing ever happened in Widgeree.

So when Alex got a noise complaint from the Harrison's about a rowdy party just before 11 o'clock on that Saturday night, he drove to the address actually hoping something would happen to make this Saturday not like all the rest of them always were.

He screeched to a halt at the gate to the property and saw that the house was well lit up from the inside, and figures inside were dancing around wildly as the music pumped, almost making the ground vibrate. Shaking his head, amused, Alex made his way through the gate and up the long driveway to the front door before pounding on the door in a vain attempt to get the occupants inside to hear his knocking.

After several minutes the door at last swung open and Alex was greeted with a tall red haired young woman, her hair mussed up, streamers hanging off her shoulders and an overflowing glass of champagne in her hand. She tried her best to stand still in front of Alex, but she quickly lost her footing and fell into him, laughing her head off. He managed to catch her, but couldn't save the glass of champagne and it fell from her hand and shattered onto the concrete doorstep. A million tiny pieces of glass spewed out over the footpath and the girl, tangled in Alex's arms, stared wide eyed at it as her reactions caught up with her actions. "That glass was a wedding present of my Mum and Dad's," she whispered, slurring her words as Alex stood her back up. They both looked down at the shattered champagne flute, and Alex just didn't know what to say.

It didn't matter though, because the girl threw her hands in the air a second later and stumbled back into the house screeching for her friends. "WHO CARES! I'M GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW! I'LL GET MORE!" she screamed as she walked away. Alex leant into the house and saw a posy of giggling, completely smashed girls jumping up and down in the living room. Empty champagne bottles littered the side tables, and music blared from the stereo that had been set up on the mantle piece. Empty party popperswere everywhere, and Alex picked his way inside and over the mess.

It was useless getting their attention. They were gone. He stood there uselessly for several moments before he saw the finest female creature he'd ever laid eyes on get up off the couch and make her way over to him. She was leggy and attractive, a model in every sense of the word. Her blonde hair hung loose over her shoulders and she walked with a confidence that Alex immediately envied.

"Sorry about the noise," she yelled into his ear. "Did the Harrison's ring you?"

Alex could do nothing but nod, not wanting to yell back at her.

She nodded back knowingly, rolling her eyes. "So sorry," she apologised. "It's Ash's hens night," she explained. "We were just having a bit of a celebration." She seemed embarrassed at the disturbance they had caused, and the mystery about her only increased. She looked like an international model, yet she was as quiet as a flower, as reserved as ever, and probably the only one not drunk in the room, beside himself. She reminded him immediately of Amy – they were so alike, at face value anyway – and he found himself drawn to her silence.

"Can you just turn down the stereo a bit?" he asked her, making his way back to the front door, eager to get away from the pounding music, and back to the relevant silence of the patrol car.

She nodded, following him to the door. He sensed her behind him and wondered why she was following. Perhaps she was just being polite? Or perhaps she felt the indescribable feeling towards him that he suddenly felt towards her. He continued to walk out to the car and upon reaching the gate, turned around to face her.

"I didn't even tell you my name," he said quietly, feeling the warm night breeze. "Sorry," he apologised, shoving his hands in his pockets, embarrassed and feeling like a kid on his first date.

'That's all right," she replied, seemingly just as shy. She pointed to his name badge. "I already know it," she laughed quietly, just enough to make him feel insecure.

Every week or so Kelly received a text message or two from her old probationary buddy. To anyone else, the texts would have sounded desperate and needy, but Kelly didn't mind. Although she did get the feeling that Joss didn't realise how often he messaged her, always spinning the same tired line – "Hey Kel…gotta catch up soon! What've you been up to?" She always replied back telling him her news, but he never told her what he was doing. And funnily enough, they never caught up.

She wondered if he was coming back for Christmas. Probably not – too many bad memories for him she guessed, like there seemed to be for everybody. But even Kelly didn't know the extent of it all. She was distracted from it though by the plague that followed her…the plague called David. It hadn't worked at all, as blissful and perfect as it may have seemed three years ago, and they had split just after she moved to St Davids. Problem was, he still worked close by, becoming a local identity in five seconds flat, and they constantly bumped into each other. It also didn't help that their professions practically went hand in hand.

And that Thursday she bumped into him yet again on a routine call out to a convenience store. Ordinarily, she wouldn't have gone on the call out, but she felt the need to escape the stuffy station, and so made her newest probationary feel nervous by tagging along for the call out with them. Kelly sat in the passenger seat as they headed out there, and daydreamed as she watched the landscape drift past. Tomorrow afternoon she would be on holidays…ahhh holidays. They were so very few and far between in this job.

They arrived at the convenience store just minutes later, and were confronted with the distraught shop owner, who burst out onto the street when she saw the approaching patrol car. She was tiny, and very very Italian. She spoke so fast Kelly had to ask her to start again when neither she nor her recruit could understand a word of what she was saying. If only Joss were here, Kelly thought to herself wistfully – he'd jabber on in Italian possibly even faster than her and everything would be sorted in a flash. But Joss wasn't there, and Kelly had to calm the shop owner down before she burst a blood vessel.

In a flurrying panic the shop owner dragged Kelly over to her shop front…or what was left of it anyway. She cried and moaned and put her head in her hands and spoke broken English between her sobs. "Brick! Brick!" she picked it up and waved it in front of their faces. "I get note too! Yesterday!" she dug it out of her apron pocket and waved it too in front of Kelly's face.

Kelly sighed and grabbed for the note, eager to put an end to the incessant waving. She read it wearily and sighed at the racial expletives it was coloured with. Yay, she thought. Racial hate crimes. She sighed again and blew her fringe out of her face.

"Did you see anyone around today Mrs…?" she asked, trying to get a straight answer from the flustered woman.

"Felesina!" she chirped, her voice still high pitched and panicy. "Only new man next door!" she seemed to speak in exclamation points and it was beginning to give Kelly a headache. Mrs Felesina pointed a chubby finger at the neighbouring store front. It was blank and looked vacant and Kelly cocked her head, studying it closer. As she did so, the door opened and out walked David Murray, an annoyed look on his face.

"Oh great," Kelly cursed under her breath. She straightened her hat unconsciously and approached, knowing it was her duty. But he butted in before she even got a word out.

"I thought your job was to keep this town safe Kelly," he sneered at her, frowning and seeming thoroughly annoyed.

"And since when did you have your headquarters here?" she spat back, just as rudely.

"Since last week," he replied, strolling over to Mrs Felesina's smashed front window and kicking at the millions of tiny fragments of glass that spilled out onto the footpath.

Kelly rubbed at her temples in frustration. Now she definitely had a headache. She couldn't wait to get back to Mt Thomas.