When the Bus Stopped

Chapter 21

"Shit," Lucy whispered.

"Do you live around here lass?" The old man asked.

"Uh uh." She shook her head quickly. No way I'm giving you my whereabouts! "Just passing through," Lucy shouted over the din. She was a brave woman, one who enjoyed living life on the edge. But trying kung fu on an old man (in the confines of a house bus) in the middle of the night was too much of an adrenaline rush, even for Lucy.

Gosh, this puts a whole new spin on Detective Daniello's problems. This old man was the perp all along? It left her wondering who the denim clad duo were, and what part did they play in all of this? She had to talk to Daniello immediately. Lucy pulled the clear plastic envelope off her vacuum cleaner nozzle, and discreetly pushed it quickly back under the chair.

"Well." Straightening up and getting out of the car Lucy closed the doors. "That is all done. Have a lovely day!" Murdering and raping the good folk of Arrowtown.

Not a moment after the wheels of the elderly gentleman's car touched the road Lucy had pulled out her phone. With the tiny bit of paper with Daniello's number Lucy had punched in the number. Chanting the registration plate of the old guy's vehicle as she did so.

#

Lucy pulled the anti wrinkle cream from her handbag and undid the lid. Orange. The most toxic shade of orange that Lucy had ever witnessed. But for three thousand dollars she wasn't complaining.

She couldn't believe her luck. That she'd just so happened to be shivering her way past that tiny boutique cosmetic company at that precise moment.

Lucy had nearly missed seeing the sign completely. She was so absorbed in her own problems with the law, and wondering where the hell detective Daniello was. So busy calling him on the phone to ask why his colleagues had gone and slapped a fine on her, and her fledgling business, instead of chasing after the old guy with the dagger as she'd expected.

The tiny sign was being cello-taped to the window. She'd come to a standstill. Gazing at it in confusion. While she struggled to make sense of it her brain kept recalling the blank expression on the cop's face as she'd given him the license plate number, and approximate time that the vehicle had left the location.

Instead of jumping to action, and charging off with his lights flashing, the cop had slowly repeated himself. Dirty water washing off cars had to go through a special drainage system. The waterways on the street went directly to the river. She was polluting the region.

Nearly catching a flu while washing cars had ended up costing her. That was just her luck. But then her brain had focused on the tiny sign.

In the window of a tiny organic boutique. Her teeth chattering so loudly she couldn't hear herself think. She'd had to read the sign a few times until it sunk in. It was handwritten with childish love hearts drawn above each 'i'. Lucy had found the solution for her financial problems. All she had to do was slather her face with this orange cream and she would be one thousand dollars off her target of getting her bus up and running. Of course she would need some money for petrol and food - and that wouldn't buff all of the dents out - but at least she would have her independence back.

It was the first time Lucy had ever thought of becoming a guinea pig for a cosmetic company and - while people might have guessed otherwise - the concept had appealed to her nature. Firstly, she liked to think of all the bunnies she was saving from having gunk stuck in their eyes. Lucy would love to see them all hopping off happily into retirement.

Secondly, she didn't have to pay for cosmetics any more! Not that she ever had. Sugar and lemon juice mixed with olive oil was the best body scrub she could possibly find and when the sugar washed off down the plughole her skin was left feeling so smooth and glossy that no moisturizer could ever compare. But now that she'd she was over thirty three years old her face had seemed to get a bit 'older', maybe she'd need more than a little bit of olive oil to perk it up?

So she rushed home with the tub. Lucy had decided not to tell anybody about her financial windfall, certainly not Krishna. Because why cause him to worry needlessly? People were always so worried about testing things out ... but with all of those organic products what could go wrong?

Pulling her dreadlocks up to make a tidy bun on top of her head, Lucy stuck a finger into the orange cream and lifted it to her nose. It smelt fruity. Delicious, she thought. Immersing more fingers into the pottle of cream Lucy lathered it on generously. When the detective saw this, she figured he'd have to use his own handcuffs to restrain himself.

Now to sit and wait.

#

"Lucy?" Krishna's voice cut through the silence. "I have a favor to ask."

Lucy, woken by his voice, sat up sharply and groaned. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Barack Obama!" He bellowed.

"What? Standing behind me? Where?" Sitting up straight she gazed around the clearing. Seeing nothing more than the house bus and a few birds lazily searching for worms.

"No. Sorry I'm trying to replace blasphemous swear words with other more exciting words. What the heck happened to your face?"

"Can you notice it already? I put an anti wrinkle cream on." She touched at her cheeks. "It feels tighter already."

"Tighter? It is swollen like a baboon's butt!"

"Huh?" Jumping up she made her way into the driver's seat of the house bus. Moving the rear vision mirror around so she could see what her brother was talking about. "Oh. My. God!" She said through lips that would give Mick Jagger's a run for their money. "My head is like a big red balloon."

"It is atrocious! You must've had an allergic reaction. What are you going to do?"

"What should I do? I guess I'll just change my clothes a little and then we'll see if I need to call an ambulance."

"I think you are being a little cavalier about this Lucy."

"Come on! It was an organic product. How bad can it get?"