Page 1 of Blackout

Prologue

April, 2013

It was a rare night off. A night to let down my hair, have a few drinks, blow off some steam and maybe check out Jam, the recently opened karaoke bar. A night off definitely did not come around very often, especially now that I was managing the business my family owned, James Family Bakery. So, tonight was all about mustering up just enough courage to step outside my comfort zone and try to make the most of a good time.

Making my way through my wardrobe, I dressed for comfort, not wanting sore feet at the end of the night. I settled on jeans, a singlet and a pair of strappy flats. With a small amount of make-up and my champagne hair falling in soft waves down my back, I reached for my purse and slung it over my shoulder.

I stood in the bedroom that I occasionally slept in at the front of a terrace-style house my grandparents had gifted me at the same time I started managing the family bakery. This bedroom was just like the rest of the house, which had been minimally furnished when I moved in. I guess it was up to me to purchase whatever I wanted to make this house a home, but when I spent hardly any time here, I didn’t see the point.

My clothes and toiletries were the only items I had unpacked as they were items I used every day. Everything that I had brought with me from my grandparent’s house was still in a few boxes in the front bedroom with the door closed. I needed to make this house my own, but I didn’t want the reminder every time I walked past that I hadn’t got around to doing it.

As I stared at myself in my full-length bedroom mirror, I was satisfied with the outfit I had chosen. Taking a deep breath I headed for the front door, turning to lock the door of my quaint Victorian terrace and pocketing my keys beside my phone, cash, debit card and driver’s license. I then walked the short distance to The Royal, a corner pub just a street over from my house.

The Royal was a small inner-city Melbourne pub in the suburb of Fitzroy with a lot of dark wood and a bar that sat in the middle of the room. Stools covered the three sides of the bar; there was also one pool table and a stage big enough for an acoustic session or two, with tables and chairs scattered throughout the rest of the floor space.

I had ventured to The Royal a few times before when I’d knocked off early enough and needed a night cap. It was close to home, after all. I wasn’t surprised to find the last time I walked through the doors that my younger sister Addison worked here. I spent most of my time at the bakery either baking or managing the office, which left me little time for catching up or reaching out to Addison. She had no such interest in working at the bakery, and as all my time was spent there, I hardly saw her.

I picked my spot at the bar and sat down, then waited for the petite bartender in her all-black outfit to make her way over. Her lips turned upwards on one side at first, but when she recognised me the other side of her lips followed, and she waved her hello. She didn’t even take my order, just placed a glass of white wine down in front of me. She knew what I liked. The bartender was my sister, Addison James. I was fifteen months older than Addison’s nineteen years and portrayed the exact opposite demeanour to Addison’s wild and free-spirited nature. I guess the choices we had made as sisters had shaped us.

Staring into the clear golden-yellow liquid in front of me I contemplated bringing the glass to my lips, but did it anyway. I didn’t want to overthink things tonight. I was always overthinking, and tonight I needed to just go with the flow.

Addison attended to the customers waiting for drinks. For a Saturday night, the pub crowd was just starting to build now that the dinner rush was over. When there was a break in customers, Addison ran around the bar to hug me.

‘I found the bakery on social media, but I can’t seem to find you. How long has it been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.’ My sister tilted her head as if she knew the answer but wasn’t game enough to say it out loud.

‘It’s been too long.’ I exhaled loudly. ‘But you know how the bakery is. I don’t have time for anything else and that includes a personal life.’ The family business was busy, and Addison knew it.

Addison and I were supposed to have each other’s backs and always stick together. We had promised our father we would always be there for each other. But when I started working full-time at the bakery after I finished high school, Addison found better things to do with her time, and our closeness started to slip away. Addison chose not to help me manage the factory or any of our three shop outlets. Instead, she decided to find work elsewhere, and when she turned eighteen, most of the work she found was bartending.

I was annoyed that my sister didn’t help out with her own family’s business. I could have used an extra pair of hands when I was short a staff member, but I couldn’t change her mind. Even a stupid dare a year ago had torn our closeness apart with the burden left on my shoulders, not her carefree ones.

Our childish schoolyard dares, without the watchful eyes of our mother, had started to escalate of late. Our dares were no longer fun challenges to complete but had become impossible stressful tasks with dire consequences. I never should have dared Addison to be my apprentice while knowing full well she would have been repelled at the notion.

Tonight though, Addison just nodded her head and bit into her bottom lip, like she knew I had just done back-to-back double shifts to keep the business afloat. But she didn’t say anything. Nobody except Addison really knew I didn’t venture outside of the work bubble I had created for myself. I never stopped working. If I wasn’t baking pastries or loaves of bread, then I buried myself in paperwork or social media for the business until I was burnt out from exhaustion.

But even Addison didn’t know that the reason I worked so much was because I hadn’t been able to sleep since that tragic night five years ago. On that fateful night, everything had spun out of control and smashed our once tight-knit family into pieces. My family hadn’t been the same since.

‘That new karaoke bar has opened, so I thought I might check it out tonight.’ I changed the subject and told my sister about Jam like she was my best friend that I confided in every day, and not an outsider to my life who now knew very little about me.

Addison had rebelled against the strictness our grandparents had placed on us the day they insisted Mum, my sister and I move in with them five years ago. I, on the other hand, had followed my grandfather around like a lost puppy as I tried to navigate the changes happening in my life. My grandparents were old-school and saw the world differently, and that two country kids needed to be protected in a big city like Melbourne.

My father’s parents kept a close eye on Addison and me because our mother was overridden with grief. She had shut the world out and fallen into a black hole. Addison found her own way to adapt and move forward, and I always envied her for that. Whereas I was like my mother, caught up in grief I didn’t know how to handle. But instead of falling into a black hole, I was forced to put on a brave face and start over. I was a teenage kid who was expected to finish high school.

‘My shift is over soon.’

I looked up when I realised Addison was talking to me, which pulled me from reminiscing. I knew that look on her face; it told me she had a plan up her sleeve.

‘Let me come with you. We can hang out like old times.’

I nodded my head okay. Maybe she wanted to bridge the gap between us, maybe she missed me, maybe I missed her, and maybe I missed our closeness. I thought about my sister and me. Would it work? The two of us side by side at the bakery? Taking turns baking at the factory one week and managing our three shop outlets the other? I could try to convince her to come and work with me again. But if my sister were anything like me, I knew she wouldn’t want to feel like I did, stuck on the hamster wheel. But would it feel like that if Addison gave working with me a try?

I stayed in the spot I had chosen as I drank my wine, then ate the bowl of hot chips that was placed in front of me and watched as two guys set up their guitars to play and sing later tonight. I observed patrons come and go from The Royal as I sipped my way through my first glass of wine and waited to see how this night would unfold. My sister, she was up to something, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

I couldn’t help myself, so pulled my phone from my purse and scrolled through my emails, making notes on my phone of the things I needed to do. Now that I was managing the bakery, it was up to me to make the family business current, and keep it successful.

My grandfather was old-fashioned and couldn’t grasp that technology was changing. He turned his nose up at a computer, telling me I should be able to work out everything out in my head, from counting back change to customers to measurements for recipes.

By the time Grandpa James let me take over the reins, I was an expert, but I also knew how much easier a computer would make things. Balancing the books, cashing up and finding out how much money we made, even putting together a roster, could be done with the click of a few buttons.

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