Catching Waves

Part Eleven

Austin's deep blue eyes stared at her in disbelief, one eyebrow lifted, like a wrathful question mark. Caitlin laid her head on the ground. If there'd been room, she'd have banged it in frustration a couple of times. Really? Really?! She felt trapped in some sick maze where every twist and turn led back to that bloody man. She risked another look at her new boss-type who was now icily glaring at the broken pipe. The effort of holding it together was starting to show, beer was leaking down his wrists and dripping onto his tee shirt. Despite this, he grunted, without looking at her "Just leave the bowl. I'll sort this. You can ... go and give the bogs a once over" 

"Austin. Let me help ..." 

"No, it's fine" 

"I'll just hold it here, look ..." 

"No, I'm fine" 

"But I can ..." 

"No, I can ..." 

Except in the end, he couldn't. The pipe required all his might to hold it together and when he began expending some might on insisting she clean the loos, the beer within the pipes smelt a weakness and surged. The drip of beer became a bona fide dripdripdrip. The pipes grew slick and Austin's fingers began to slip, the crack in the pipe widening under the pressure of the beer. 

"Oh, for goodness sake ..." muttered Caitlin, who was beginning to be splattered with droplets of booze. Just as she shoved the bowl into the gap between Austin's chest and the rebel pipe, there was a sudden gush of noxious smelling liquid. It splattered into the bowl and out again, spraying both of them indiscriminately. Gasping at the cold drenching, she flinched away but found her escape route foiled by the boxes and bottles she was crammed under the bar with. "Fuck it!" roared Austin, who was by now covered in beer. He moved quickly to grip the pipes again but they'd tasted freedom and were less inclined to be held. And still the beer kept flowing. Giving up on avoiding the soaking, Caitlin quickly moved back over until she was squashed up against Austin's left and - threading her arms though his, added her hands to his fingers until between them, they managed to close the crack in the pipe enough for the torrent to subside to a trickle.  

In shock from their impromptu meeting and just as impromptu soaking, they lay for a second in silence and caught their breath. Caitlin blinked at the realisation that she was nestled knee, thigh and hip alongside this man. Her bare arms slipping around his, their fingers entangled together. What's more, she was fairly sure her beery hair had fallen into his face and suffocated him. How else could you explain his deafening silence?  

But then ... 

"I guess there was more of a back log than I realised. " 

You don't say. 

"I'm going to have to disconnect the pipe from the main barrel. You'll have to hold on to this whilst I go and sort it." 

"Righto" Caitlin responded, steely. She could still feel the beer flowing through the pipe; bumbling around, looking for the way out - and she wasn't entirely sure that she would be able to sustain the grip they were currently applying together. But she wasn't about to tell him that, oh no. A natural multi tasker, Caitlin had managed to build up some wrath at the same time as assisting this twat with his pipes. How dare he so speedily slap her with the scarlet lady sticker? He didn't know the first thing about anything (not even blocked and leaky pipes) and so should keep his irate eyebrows and strong silences to himself.  

He slowly slid his fingers through hers, the leak making his skin slip easily against hers. Then he unbent his arms and pulled them away too. Finally, he pushed himself out of the gap he'd been slotted into. Not that Caitlin watched him go, so focused she was on not letting go of the pipe.