Bella's Run by Margareta Osborn Page B

said. ‘Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll be with you.’ Slamming down the bonnet on the ute, he set off across the yard, throwing words over his shoulder. ‘Grab my swag out from beside that old lathe, will you, and there’s an esky on the verandah. There might be a can left in the beer fridge, if you’re thirsty.’ One final yell came across the yard before the screen door slammed. ‘I’ll be back.’
    ‘No problemo,’ called Macca grinning, as he watched Will practically run across to the house. ‘Plenty of time, old mate. We’ll be there before dark.’

Chapter 11
    Bella tried to focus on the tiny glasses swimming in front of her eyes. A bunch of Akubra hats worn by the cattlemen clustered around the bar kept distracting her. Was Will here? What would he think of her down on her knees, swilling like a pig?
    Damn Patty and her bloody bets. Her mind flicked back to half an hour before when she was considering the best spot in the river for a swim. The water was packed with people, swimming or sitting waist-deep on deckchairs drinking and yarning. There were dogs splashing about, barking, plus a few horses trying to stay cool – it was standing-room only. Patty ran up and tackled Bella from behind.
    ‘Hey, Hells Bells! C’mon, Jonesy and me have organised a drinking competition. And have I got a bet for you this time, girlfriend! Seeing as I haven’t paid out the other wager we had yet, how about double or nothing? Two slabs of rum-and-coke and a hundred bucks, I beat you. What do you reckon?’

    ‘No.’ Bella shook her head. ‘You know I can’t hold my grog as well as you can. You owe me, girl. I’m going for a swim.’ She tried to extricate herself from Patty’s hot and sweaty arms. ‘Plus, you can’t organise a competition and be a competitor.’
    ‘Where’s your sense of adventure? In Queensland still?’ Patty let go, stood back and planted her hands on her hips. ‘And pig’s arse I can’t compete. That’s why I’ve organised the bloody thing. Jonesy here’s going to adjudicate.’
    For the first time, Bella noticed a middle-aged bloke slouching against a nearby four-wheel drive, a green can of VB in hand. Jonesy lifted his arm in salute. It looked like he was drunk. And dribbling. Oh boy, thought Bella.
    ‘Excuse me , but you’re leaning against my vehicle.’
    The hoity-toity voice belonged to Prudence Vincent-Prowse, the girl who since childhood had loved to make life hell for Bella and Patty. Bella couldn’t believe she’d managed to forget Prudence Vincent-Prowse for a whole year.
    ‘Yeah. So?’ Jonesy sprawled himself out some more and scratched his balls.
    ‘You’re scratching it, you idiot!’ Prudence’s face – which normally looked like it had been lifted from a Covergirl advertisement – was screwed up and turning slightly crimson.
    ‘You gunna do somethin’ about it?’ Jonesy looked delighted.
    ‘It’s my fucking four-wheel drive . Now get off it! ’
    ‘Okay, okay – no need to get tetchy.’ A disappointed Jonesy lifted himself off the vehicle, leaving dusty scuffmarks on the shiny duco. ‘You need to kick back a bit, love. How ’bout a drinkin’ competition to loosen those bra straps and G-string?’
    ‘How did you know I was wearing a G—’ Prowsy stopped and then scowled at a laughing Jonesy, who was prancing around, bum tucked in, wrists limp, doing a good impersonation of a stuck-up poodle.
    ‘C’mon, Prowsy, how about a few drinks?’ Patty dropped herself neatly into the conversation, turning the focus away from Jonesy’s drunken antics. ‘I need some contestants for a drinking comp I’ve set up and we haven’t seen you for so long. Nothing like a welcome-back drink with some mates .’
    Prowsy swung round and took in her female observers. ‘Well, well, well . . . what do we have here?’ she said, while looking like she had dog shit on her boots. ‘The two stooges are back from Queensland. I was hoping we’d gotten rid of you