Page 11 of Shar: A Woman Alone

Zara walks over to the coffee machine and rolls her eyes.“It’s empty. I’ll clean it out and put fresh on.”

“Thanks, sweetie, you’re a gem. What do you want for lunch?”I open the fridge and drag out eggs and milk. Then check the cabinets and findthe flour. Clapping my hands with delight, I grin. “Pancakes. Do you fancythem, Zara?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

I turn to look at Sharp. “Do you want some?”

The smile he gives me answers my question. I quickly get thepancake batter made, two skillets heating on the stove and Zara cutting fruitwe can have with them. Opening the cabinet, I take out a bottle of maple syrupand smile to myself, as this is going to be a pleasant lunch.

Now, I enjoy cooking, but as I keep making pancakes,brothers keep appearing and sitting at the kitchen tables, waiting for pancakesto be made. I will not complain about it as they all look like little boyswaiting for momma’s cooking.

Zara keeps making fresh batches of batter and we keeppushing the whores out of the way as they wander into the kitchen, sniffing andtrying to get involved. But hey, call me a bitch, but I’m not cooking for them.They are more than capable of cooking for themselves and the brothers.

As the brothers have finished eating, they one by one walkover, kiss Zara’s cheek, and thank me for the lunch. Gunner walks in and Irefrain from reacting because I know it would hurt Zara and that’s the lastthing I want to do.

“Have you any of those left?” Gunner asks, hugging Zara andkissing the top of her head. We plate half a dozen pancakes and pile on some ofthe mixture of strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries, before drizzlingmaple syrup over the stack. Zara grins then hands the plate to Gunner, whokisses her on the top of her head once more and shouts a thank you to me.Surprising me with his show of affection for his daughter, I have to think,maybe he’s a changed man?

Sharp is still sitting at the table, drinking coffee andtalking to some of his men. They all look deep in conversation, so Zara and Itake our plates of pancakes over to the end of the row of tables so they arenot overheard.

“I’m going to give Mia a call later. Do you want to speak toher when I do?” I ask Zara, and she gives me a small smile.

“I’m not sure that Mia wants me to stay in touch too muchnow. I love her, but I didn’t do right by her when she was accused andeventually sent to prison. I will always regret it and will always hate myselffor it because I was a coward.”

“How do you think other kids would have reacted? You wereonly a very young child. Give yourself a break. I know Mia has no bad feelingstoward you at all. She’s just so busy now, with being the first lady of theclub, she has all the women to watch out for. She is a joint owner of a bar,and she does a lot around the clubhouse.”

I pick up our plates and rinse them out at the sink, thenbetween us, we rinse off everyone’s plates and fill the dishwasher beforesetting it going. Now, I’ve got to get something done or the afternoon will beover.

Sharp and the brothers left the kitchen a short while ago,so I’m going to have to find out who to speak to if Sharp and Crack are busy.Looking around, I see Trip walking out the front door of the clubhouse, so Ichase after him.

“Trip, have you got a minute?” I ask as I catch him up.

“What’s up, Shar?”

“I want to have a ride out to that garage Mr. Seaguard owns.But I think it would be good to be alone, rather than be seen with one of youguys. Trouble is, I don’t know what the place would be worth if I have a lookaround and then throw him an offer.

“Well, I can’t say I don’t agree with you, ‘cause that oldbastard won’t sell to us no matter the size of the offer.” Taking my elbow,Trip guides me back into the clubhouse and straight to Bank's office.

For the next forty minutes, we discuss how much I shouldoffer if given the chance and what I need to look at and pretend to know about.I also get Trip’s number on my phone so I can call him if I need to get anyinformation. I can even pretend he’s my business partner. I can’t help the grinwhen I ask what Trip’s name is, as I can’t give his club name if I call, andwhen he quickly throws Zayne Spillers, I can’t help the grin that crosses myface.

I follow Trip through town and when he indicates the garageI pull into the forecourt while Trip continues forward. Parking, I step out anddrop my shades over my eyes, looking around as if I know something about agarage.

The place has been closed a long time. You can tell by thebreaking up of the parking area, peeling paintwork, and boarded-up windows. Itake out my phone and start taking pictures of the building, and when an oldman walks over from a run-down trailer on one side of the property, I ignorehim until he reaches me.

“Hi, my name's Shar. I’m looking over your garage, whichlooks pretty run down, but I imagine is your pride and joy. Owning a garage hasalways been my dream. I’m not a mechanic, but my pop was, and he died when wewere saving to buy our own place. I was traveling through and saw this placeand for some reason I had a pang in my chest, just like my pops was telling meto stop and look. I hope you don’t mind my pulling in and looking around?”

The old man, who is filthy and stinks of piss and oil,smiles at me and holds his hand out to shake. I grit my teeth and shake hishand, then rub my hand down the back of my thigh when he turns to look at thegarage.

“Yeah, she is my pride and joy. Took me years to get hergoing, but to be the only garage in town and miles around gave me a decentliving.” Mr. Seaguard is 5’9” at a guess, with gray hair going bald on top,rotten teeth, and eyes that show he’s going blind.

“Well, you did a grand job of it. Would I be able to have alook inside?” I’m giving him my pathetic little woman act, who wants to liveher father's dream, and it seems to work.

“Come on, I’ll show you what it’s like inside.” I follow himto the front door, which I’m sure was the shop with the reception counter. Theold boy talks about the old days, what he had to do to get the place up andrunning and how much business he had over the years. Now, if he was to bebelieved, the old fucker has to have spent his money on something stupidbecause he sure doesn’t have any money now.

Inside, I was right. There was empty shelving where he’dsold oils, filters, and the like. The reception counter would need replacing asit’s chipped, broken, and just plain rotten. Looking around, the entire roomwould need to be ripped out and rebuilt.

Walking behind the old man, he shows me a large kitchen witha utility area. The office has seen no one in it for years by the amount ofdust and grime I can see. There is a floor safe which is worth noting and barson the window. A closet where he has coveralls hanging and a couple of jackets.It would be ideal as a small cloakroom if the old shelving was ripped out. Atoilet with a sink comes next. It’s foul, and I quickly close the door on it.The last room is empty, but it’s pretty large and would make a decent lockerroom or even a storage room. The back door at the end of the hallway would needreplacing.

We walk back into the reception, and on the opposite side ofthe hallway is a door directly into the garage itself. There is a large windowwhere anyone in the reception can see the garage and vice versa. But the garageis a shambles. Tapping my chin, I look over at Mr. Seaguard, trying to lookintelligent as to the workings of a garage.

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