Page 6 of Electric Kiss

Daisy ended the session and cuddled Isobel closer, thinking back to why she was scared to see an old toy of hers. She didn’t truly understand why she wouldn’t go beyond the kitchens of Turner Hall, either. If it wasn’t for Maggie and Bailey, she wouldn’t go near the place.

“Shall we go to see if Jason’s home? Maybe your aunty can blag a dinner and escape making dinner for one again.”

Isobel gurgled her reply, and Daisy nodded at her affirmation. She bundled up the little girl, and they took a stroll to her brother’s place. Luke and Freya were in the kitchen with Heidi around the kitchen island when she tapped on the glass door. Heidi’s eyes lit up when she saw Isobel.

“Oh, come in,” Heidi said, with her hands outstretched for Isobel.

“You’re only happy to see me because I have this bundle of joy,” Daisy said with a grin.

“And you’re only here so you don’t have to cook,” Jason said from the stove.

“That is true,” Daisy said and laughed.

“Pull up a chair. We’re wondering how long Archer and Erica can stay away until they buckle and want to see their child.”

“I’m shocked I didn’t get a visit already,” Daisy said, accepting the glass of wine Heidi passed to her.

Jason continued to prepare dinner while Daisy, Freya, and Heidi fussed over the little one. Luke stood hip to counter with a beer in his hand, chatting to Jason as he chopped and diced the ingredients. Ten minutes later, Archer and Erica approached the back door and pushed the door open looking fresh faced and happy. Their eyes moved immediately to Isobel.

Luke looked at his watch. “I win, pay up,” Luke said to Jason.

Chapter Two

Nate

Nate had been running his boat repair shop for a little over six years. His father had opened the shop when Nate was a young boy, and it had always been a dream of Nate to continue the tradition. Some days, however, it seemed like a thankless endeavour.

No one ever seemed to come by. It was heart-breaking. He opened the shop doors faithfully every morning, hopeful that the day would bring some business. He had a few regulars, but they were few and far between. Nate resigned himself to his own lonesome company, filling the space with boat parts and tools.

Despite being a lone wolf, the idea of finding a wife fascinated Nate. In his more honest moments, he wished for his father to come back. To share the joys of boat repair with him, a fellow enthusiast who could appreciate the beauty of his trade. He wanted someone to chat with, to share stories, and to laugh with. His father had moved off Copper Islandwith his mum six years ago when he could see the business was slowing down. Cynthia had systematically run the island like she didn’t care. His mum and dad regularly offered him a job at the mechanic’s workshop on the mainland, where plenty of business fixing boats were on the harbourside.

Nate wanted to stay on Copper Island. He liked island life.

Still, without fail, Nate opened the doors of his shop every morning with a smile on his face. He was determined to keep his father’s business alive and didn’t plan on giving up anytime soon.

Nate had always been a bit of an introvert, so the solitary nature of his job didn’t bother him too much. In fact, he was often content to just sit in the workshop’s corner, tinkering away at whatever project he had set his mind on. He enjoyed the peace and quiet, taking solace in the fact that he was working towards a greater goal.

With the passing of time, Nate developed an affinity for his new place of work. After all, it was his, and he was proud of the progress he had made. He had slowly but surely transformed the shop into a haven for boat repair.

Nate took in the details of his workspace, noticing the small things like the creaky floorboards, tatty yellow armchair and the pungent oil smell. He had become so familiar with the space that it almost felt like a second home. Even in the silence, he could find solace and comfort from his labours.

Nate boiled the kettle and made a cup of strong tea. Snatching up the packet of chocolate digestives still in the packet, he went to the side opening of his workshop and shouldered the door open to a smaller workspace. In the centre was his prized possession, his Kawasaki GPZ750.There wasn’t much road on Copper Island, but he wanted a project to work on with all his downtime and to learn to restore something other than boats.

He had to diversify if he wanted to stay. His revenue was down so much from the previous year, he was grateful he no longer needed to pay any taxes, or so he hoped.

A bang on the door brought him out of his thoughts an hour later. His best mate, Selly, stuck his head around the door.

The door was ajar, a sliver of light between the door and door frame. Selly’s face was one of concern and intrigue. A hint of grease and gas, the smell of warm oil, and the aroma of pollen carried in the wind wafted around as he pulled the door open wider. The door’s hinges creaked as Selly eased it open.

“Hey, Nate. You coming out tonight?”

“Maybe. What time is everyone meeting?”

“About eight in the pub,” Selly said, taking a closer look at the bike Nate was working on. “You finished it yet?”

“I can’t ride it yet, but it’s not far off.”

“It’s looking good. How’s business?”

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