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Her only other coherent thought that night was that Harlow was so much better in reality than her dreams could ever have imagined.
TWENTY-THREE
Up close, Ben was younger than she'd realised. Oh, she'd seen him at the back of the café, sketching customers and adding more artwork to the walls, but she'd been more focussed on her customers than whatever he was doing. She knew Tacey had some sort of business arrangement with him that meant he had a permanently reserved table in the corner by the window, and that his presence tended to help when male customers tried to cause trouble, but now she looked at him, she had to wonder how anyone was frightened off by this cheerful boy.
Now, if he was built like Harlow, it would be a different story, but Ben looked like he could have been one of the high school kids from the art college up the road.
"Now, you never come over here to look at my art, and I know I haven't ordered anything this evening, so to what do I owe the pleasure of your attention?" Ben asked.
He sounded a little like Harlow, but there was no threat in his tone. Just an easy, open smile.
No way someone this young would be a history buff, or even want to be involved in her project. He probably didn't even know when the Swan River Colony had been founded.
But she had to ask.
"I was wondering whether you take commissions?" she asked.
"Of course, but you're Tacey's sister, and café staff. I'd be happy to sketch you while I'm here, like I have the other girls. Tacey usually puts them all on the wall behind the counter, but if you'd like to take your sketch home, I don't mind." He picked up a pencil and sketchpad and began to draw.
"No, no, it's not me I wanted. I'm trying to recreate a particular period in history, and I have a few watercolours and paintings from that time, but not much else to work with. What I do have is some oral history accounts, and I'm hoping to find someone who can help me turn the descriptions into pictures I can use to create a virtual world, to show people what the early Swan River Colony looked like." She kept her eyes fixed on the table, so she wouldn't have to see the rejection on his face. Hearing it would be enough.
"That sounds fascinating."
It took her a moment for his words to actually sink into her brain, and another moment before she could force her gaze up to meet his eyes. He really did look intrigued. "You'll help me?" she stammered.
"Perhaps. First, I'd like to see what sort of art style you're looking for, not to mention which medium. I prefer pencil and paper, but Rochelle talked me into buying a tablet, so I'm now experimenting with a little digital art, but I'm by no means an expert at it. Rochelle knows all kinds of art software, which is why I would have thought you'd ask her, not me." He raised his eyebrows, as if waiting for an explanation.
"I want to ask Rochelle to help, too, but more with the marketing and video side of things. It's the actual world that...well, it's probably easier if I just show you. Can you come upstairs for a minute?"
Ben nodded and followed her. He glanced around the studio for a moment, before turning his attention back to her. "This is your studio, where Rochelle stayed for a while."
"Yes."
"Then I believe I owe you an apology, or perhaps payment of some kind. You see, Rochelle and I may have used one of your condoms one night. We bought our own the very next day, and the rest of your collection was safe, but Rochelle wasn't able to find a replacement for the one we used. I would like to offer you money to pay for it, if you'd only tell me how much."
Octavia's breath caught in her throat. "One condom. You used one condom?"
"Yes. I would not normally use someone's property without permission, but you weren't here and things were quite heated and it became rather urgent..." Ben coughed. "I didn't imagine you'd want it back after what we did with it."
No, she definitely didn't want anyone's used condoms. That was just...ew. But if he'd only used one...that meant it had to be the burglar. Who the fuck broke into cafés and stole condoms?
"It's...fine. Really. I hope you had fun," Octavia managed to say.
"Of course." Ben grinned, suddenly a man and not a boy any more. There was something almost predatory in that smile. Or maybe it was just knowing. "But I don't believe you wish to discuss my sexual exploits. You mentioned an early colonial history project?"
With relief, Octavia turned to her computer. "Well, this is what I have for Fremantle..." She pulled up the render for it, and panned around. "I'm starting to piece together the Old Mill in South Perth, and just this week, I've been working on Clarence, where the colonists from theHooghlyand theGilmorefirst came ashore." She showed him the photographs she'd stitched together, with the tents she'd started to sketch in, based on George Bayly's picture of what he called Hooghly Town.
He stared at it hungrily. "One of my family arrived here on theHooghly. I wonder if you've come across him in your research. Name's Steel."
Her breath caught in her throat. "Steel?" she managed to say.
"Yes. Stanley Steel, though he went by Stan."
Her breath hissed out. Not Harlow, then. But he had mentioned he had a cousin called Stan...
"I think I might remember that name from one of the passenger lists," she said slowly. She definitely didn't want to tell him his ancestor might be flying around on gargoyle wings right now. No way would he believe her.
"Yeah, I saw those, too. Problem is, he disappeared soon after he arrived and no one ever heard from him again. No death record, nothing. It's like he just vanished."
