Can You Keep a Secret? by Caroline Overington Read Free Book Online

stand outside the bath and turn the shower on themselves. It soaks the carpet.’
    ‘Let me see …’ said Colby. ‘Would you let me have a bath at your place, if I promised not to wet your carpet?’
    Caitlin was a smart girl. She knew a pick-up line when she heard one.
    ‘I don’t have a bath,’ she said, ‘I’ve only got a shower … You’ll have to find somewhere else to have a bath.’
    ‘Alright, but what about if I don’t want a bath? What if I just need a bed?’
    It was as direct a proposition as Caitlin had ever received. Her insides swam. She was enjoying this. ‘But that’s another thing the Japanese don’t do – they don’t sleep in proper beds,’ she said.
    ‘Are we back on the Japanese now?’
    ‘My friend from the hotel told me: they spent all this money on new mattresses but they’re too soft. They’d rather sleep on the floor.’
    ‘Do you like a soft bed, Caitlin?’
    ‘I suppose I do.’
    ‘I do, too,’ said Colby, and he leaned over, and she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he brushed his lips against her ear and said, ‘We’re staying at the Sunshine Shack on Main Street tomorrow night. Just for the one night, then I’m supposed to head down to Sydney for the fireworks.’
    ‘I know where it is,’ said Caitlin.
    Colby’s voice was hoarse. ‘I want you to come and knock on my door. I want to spend one more night with you.’
    Caitlin nodded, and then they swiftly separated. Trevor was coming up the stairs.

Chapter 6
    The Sunshine Shack. It sounds quaint, maybe even a bit romantic, but of course it wasn’t.
    Colby had left his boat shoes on the mat outside his door so Caitlin would be able to find him without having to ask at reception, and she knocked – very quietly.
    ‘I’m so sorry about this place,’ he said, letting her in.
    ‘What’s wrong with it?’ Caitlin asked, concerned. But of course she was seeing the Sunshine Shack as a girl from far north Queensland would see it, and not as a fund manager from Manhattan would. Colby’s room was typical of a 1970s Australian hotel-motel, with a pine double bed and a quilted, patterned bedspread; a plastic toilet lid with a paper strip over it to prove that it had been cleaned since the last time somebody rented the room; a shower cubicle with three-panel sliding door and a piece of soap in a sealed packet; a small TV atop a pine dresser; stiff towels; and a white plastic kettle with a very short cord.
    ‘What’s right about it? They told us it was three-star, and that was as good as we could get in Townsville.’ Colby kicked the door shut behind Caitlin. ‘Maybe the booking company made a mistake.’
    ‘It looks okay to me,’ said Caitlin, and that was all she got to say. Colby took her in his arms and forced her back towards the bed.
    ‘I’ve been waiting for days to get you alone,’ he said, between kisses on her neck.
    ‘You didn’t make it very obvious.’
    ‘Am I making it obvious now?’
    He was. And then morning came, and with it a knock on the door.
    ‘Who could that be?’ asked Colby. He put an apricot-coloured towel around his waist and went to look. The Sunshine Shack was a family-run motel. The managers – Liz and Brian Forsyth – had taken on the business after Brian got retrenched from the old State Bank in Melbourne.
    It was Liz who came to the door, carrying a breakfast tray.
    ‘Good morning! Where would you like this?’
    ‘Ah, anywhere is fine,’ said Colby.
    Liz looked past him into the room, and what she saw made her roll her eyes. Caitlin had gone into the bathroom to hide, but the mattress was half off the base and, when Liz went to walk across the room to put the tray down, she stepped straight onto an empty champagne bottle, hidden under a pile of discarded clothes.
    ‘Check-out is at ten,’ she said primly.
    ‘Gotcha,’ said Colby as she left. He was already lifting the shiny cloche off a plate. There were strips of bacon underneath and fried eggs; there was