Was delivered to us by accident. Rosie told us where to find you.
Charlotte took the box inside first, then returned for the little tree.
The balcony was in full sun, with only one spot dappled by the shade of a neighbouring tree. Rather than shock the poor pine, she placed it where it had both sun and shade. It was so dried out that she poured two full jugs of water into the soil before it did more than run straight through the pot.
Back downstairs, she retrieved the ornaments and tinsel.
Sid Morris was still on her mind as she let herself back in the house. She flicked the kettle on, then lay on the floor and focussed on a spot on the ceiling as it boiled. Her heartrate came down, the anger drained away, and she regulated her breathing, flicking the bracelet to focus the emotions.
Need to meditate more often, Charlie.
The move to Kingfisher Falls, leaving behind the friends she loved in River’s End, dealing with new challenges, all of this raised her anxiety. Which was perfectly normal. But it was time for some self-care.
She made her coffee strong and took it onto the balcony, which was quickly becoming her favourite place. From here she could sit unnoticed from the street yet watch the comings and goings of this small town. In the new year, she’d buy some new furniture for out here. Perhaps a little BBQ to cook with on warm nights. If only she could think of a way for Rosie to come upstairs, she’d have her over for dinner.
“You will come for dinner?” Rosie had asked that only yesterday. Christmas dinner wasn’t something Charlotte had often experienced. A couple of times she’d been invited to colleagues’ homes, but it had been out of pity for her being alone. She was sure of that. She’d eaten and nodded and smiled, left a generic bottle of wine and flowers, then fled the minute she was able to. Somehow, the idea of sharing a table with Rosie wasn’t as confronting. From the moment they’d met, Rosie and Charlotte clicked. Maybe she’d let Rosie know she’d be along, and even offer to come early and help.
Charlotte stared at the box. It stared back. At some point she’d need to open it, if only to discover the sender. There was nobody in her life who’d send a Christmas present. Nobody who’d know her address, that is.
Not Trev?
Surely, he knew better. Their relationship—if one could even call it that—was more a loose friendship. An occasional moment of laughter. Sometimes, a connection over a mystery. There she was again, back to being a detective.
Christie? Now, that made sense. Christie was the queen of mysteries and knew her address. But she was busy with opening her new beauty salon and being a newlywed. Of course, if Christie knew her address, so did most of River’s End.
She found a knife and cut through the tape on the top. She wanted to know what was inside. Charlotte pushed the flaps aside and looked in.
At first, she didn’t understand. There were books, and photo albums, and little trinket boxes, Christmas cards, and a whole lot of letters. And on the very top, in a plastic sleeve, an envelope. It was addressed to her.
Charlotte walked away. Went out on the balcony and played with the pine branches, whispering to them that they were wanted and needed to grow. She gazed down the road, not seeing a thing.
And then she returned to the box and slid the envelope out of the plastic sleeve.
Dear Dr Dean,
The board of Lakeview Care thought it was time to forward the remaining items Angelica kept from the house. With the deteriorating condition of your mother, we felt it prudent to send what is yours. She has held on to these as some kind of comfort but has not touched them in weeks. We believe it is safe to send them now.
Sincerely,
Maggie
Charlotte let the note escape her fingers and watched it fall to the ground. She walked to the kitchen. Then back to the balcony. And then, she collected a book from the pile on a coffee table and went to the bedroom.
Chapter Nine
The attempt to read the afternoon away failed miserably. Too much was swirling around in Charlotte’s mind, none of it welcome. After an hour of winding herself up even more, she decided she was hungry.
Creating a simple sandwich helped. The act of doing something productive let her brain clear some of the mixed-up thoughts and by the time she took it to the sofa, she was ready to work out what to do with the box.
Feet tucked under herself, Charlotte nibbled on lunch, eyes on the box as if expecting it to move on its own. Inside it were a whole lot of memories, and more than that, things she’d never had access to. The letters were from her mother, and to her mother. She’d seen them before but kept locked away in a box. And her mother didn’t speak of them. Never had.
Half of her wanted to reseal it and send it back.
Coward.
She put the plate down, lunch only part eaten.
It wasn’t cowardice to shy away from darkness if it scared you.
So, find a light.
Charlotte knew this was the right approach, but there wasn’t any light she could shine on it. Not yet. The best thing was to put it out of sight until she’d found a metaphorical light. And she would. If anything, Charlotte was expert at clever ways to create shields. At least, she was for other people when she was practicing psychiatry.
This reminded her of something a wise woman told her. Back in River’s End, she’d spent some time with Christie’s great-aunt Martha, a woman who’d lost the love of her life and found him again. For many years, she’d lived on the other side of the world, with little knowledge of events in her hometown. The arrival of a box of her possessions, accidentally left behind, came as a shock and she’d hidden it in a broom closet for years. Eventually, she’d revisited the memories and found strength in the once-beloved items.
“Better to deal with a problem when it happens.” Martha had told Charlotte over coffee. “Burying the past is the least effective way of finding happiness.”
Martha’s wisdom made sense. She’d find a way to take everything out of her box and inspect the past. Perhaps Martha would come and help her.
Charlotte folded the flaps down and carried the box into a spare bedroom. There, she left it on the bed and closed the door behind herself. Time to finish lunch.
“How pretty are you?” Charlotte stepped back from the tree with a smile. She’d been careful not to overload its sagging branches, but even with only a dozen baubles, the little pine brightened up the balcony. “I’m going to nurture you until you’re strong enough to plant, then we’ll find you somewhere special to grow into the tall, strong pine you are meant to be.”
She leaned on the balcony railing, gazing up at the hills. Apart from some cleared land around houses, the hills were covered with all types of trees. Pines overlooked the sports fields, then deciduous trees such as claret and golden ashes. Autumn must be so pretty. Gum trees of different species. The beautiful golden wattles stood out against the green and grey of the other trees.
Movement down the road caught her attention as a car and trailer pulled up outside Esther’s boutique. When Esther and Doug got out, Charlotte was relieved. Only them. And on the trailer was a pine tree, so they must have been up at the Christmas Tree farm. She watched for a few minutes as Doug untied the tree and then he and Esther carried it inside. How brave to continue and not allow the thief to frighten them.
And that’s how it’s done.
Shaking her head, she wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. Hopefully there would be no more silliness in town. People had enough to do leading up to Christmas without worrying about break-ins or vandals.
This was Charlotte’s first Christmas away from Queensland, at least since she was a small child. There were some vague, fleeting memories of a sparkling tree and a red ribboned present with her name on it, but little else. Her mother’s progressive illness and refusal to treat it forced Charlotte to grow up too soon. Dad was long gone, and Mum had no interest in any kind of celebration. Besides, there was never any money so presents were restricted to those her sc
hool friends or kind neighbours gave her.
The pile of tinsel she’d bought glittered out on the table on the balcony. She’d not used it for the tree. But it would look great looping down from the windows. Charlotte grabbed some scissors, dug up some sticky tape, and scooped it up. This was her Christmas and she was going to enjoy every minute.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte went to bed happy. The living room was bright and cheerful with its tinsel, and she’d hung the remaining ornaments from the ceiling with string. It might not be much, but now she had a little touch of festive season in her heart. She read a new thriller for an hour, then slid under the sheets, knowing tomorrow was going to take every minute of concentration.
She woke at three minutes after midnight, her eyes flying open to see the time on the digital clock beside her bed. Why? It wasn’t a bad dream, nor a storm, and she couldn’t remember hearing breaking glass.
Go back to sleep.
She closed her eyes. From a distance came an odd sound. She’d heard something earlier exactly like it. A chainsaw. Eyes open again, she climbed out of bed and grabbed her dressing gown on the way to the balcony.
The sound stopped. There was no movement along the road. Esther’s shop looked fine. The Christmas tree rustled behind her and she glanced at it. Just a breeze. If it was a bit windy, perhaps a tree had come down somewhere and it was being cut up to move.
The buzz began again. It came from near the roundabout and Charlotte leaned as far over the railing as she dared. There was a lot of light there. But wasn’t that normal for an intersection? And the tree in the centre had spotlights pointed on it from memory. The chainsaw stopped.
Laughter. Male laughter and raised voices. Charlotte’s instincts went on high alert. She distinctly heard, “Pull, Darro.” Darro?
And then a long, loud crack.
Charlotte sprinted to the bedroom. In less than a minute she was dressed and running down the stairs with her keys and phone. She sped along her side of the road, close to the shop fronts to avoid being seen. But she knew something bad had happened at the roundabout. And she wasn’t about to phone Sid.
She peered around the last shop on the corner. A ute and long trailer sat partway on the roundabout. Two young men dragged pieces of the giant Christmas tree onto it. Charlotte unlocked her phone and searched for the camera. Her hands shook and it took several tries to open it.
“Hurry up, Darro.”
Whatever was going on, she needed to get evidence, so she snapped away as much as she could. The trailer had no plates and the men never turned her way, so she could only hope she’d got enough to identify them. The poor tree was in pieces, and one by one, the men threw them into the trailer. What wouldn’t fit went into the back of the ute.
The same ute from the other night.
From behind her, Charlotte heard a car approach and flattened herself in the doorway of the shop. Ahead, the ute’s engine roared and by the time the car passed her, the thieves were gone. All that remained were ornaments and a few broken branches.
This time, her phone call to the police was anonymous. Sure, they’d be able to find her if they wanted, but she had no intention of being Sid’s prime suspect. Every instinct told Charlotte to get back to her house and mind her own business.
Like you’re going to start doing that now.
She found a narrow gap between two shops and squeezed in. The roundabout was a mess with broken ornaments, discarded branches, and the ground dug up by the trailer and ute. This angle was better for photographs and Charlotte zoomed in to get more detail.
Sid arrived in the same singlet and pants from the other night. He parked where the ute was. So much for identifying the other vehicle from tyre tread. He kicked at a branch and squashed an intact ornament. Charlotte tried to switch to video mode and the phone dinged. She drew further into the gap as Sid spun around.
“Who’s there? Show yourself.”
Charlotte inched backwards, turning to her side to slide along the wall as footsteps approached. Cobwebs caught her hair and a squeal rose in her throat, but she forced it down for fear of discovery. Sid might shoot her if he found her. Who would ever look down this constricted space for a body?
“Is someone there?” A flashlight lit the entrance, then was directed toward Charlotte.
She kept moving until the gap suddenly opened to an alley and she threw herself around a corner. The light flashed where she’d just been, and Charlotte shoved her phone into a pocket and leaned against the brick wall drawing in short breaths. There was no way Sid would fit through the gap, but she needed to find a way out of wherever she was. He already thought she was guilty of something.
When there was no more light coming through the gap, she turned the flashlight on her phone on. The alley ran behind shops on one side and was wide enough for one car to drive along at a time. Cobblestones covered the ground and there were a few bins scattered ahead. Charlotte hurried in the direction of the bookshop. A few of the shops had back doors leading to the alley. The other side was fenced and from glimpses between palings, it looked like back yards of houses.
She neared the end of the row of shops. Ahead was the alley that opened opposite the bookshop. Phone in her pocket she crept along the wall to the corner. When she peered around, there was no sign of movement. The bookshop was in darkness, apart from the lights around the tree in the window.
Step by step, she tiptoed toward the street, stopping at every tiny sound. From here, the very top of her little Christmas tree was just in sight above the balcony. It needed a star.
Focus.
At the corner, Charlotte stared in the direction of the roundabout. Sid’s car was still there. But where was he? He’d have to leave sooner or later, or at least call for assistance. A shadow passed in front of the bookshop. Sid was there. He’d been in the darkness until crossing in front of the tree. Now she knew where he was, Charlotte watched him until he’d walked all the way back to his car.
The minute he got into it, she sprinted over the road. In seconds she was around the back and flying up the stairs. Door locked behind her, Charlotte closed her eyes and exhaled. Too close. Far too close.
After showering to get cobwebs from her hair, and grime from her arms and legs, Charlotte was exhausted. She padded barefoot to the sliding glass door, towelling her hair dry. She’d left the door open, so began to pull it across.
She wrinkled her nose and stepped onto the balcony. Someone was smoking nearby.
The smell of smoke was strong. Charlotte stood at the edge of the balcony, scanning below. At the corner of the alley, Sid stared up at her, a cigarette between his fingers. When their eyes met, he sneered at Charlotte, then tossed the butt onto the ground and walked away.
Chapter Eleven
Against all odds, Charlotte fell asleep as soon as she returned to bed and slept until dawn. She lay there for a while watching the sky go through all the hues of blue from dark to light, getting her mind ready for the day ahead. Open the shop after a quick check everything was perfect. Water the pine trees—hers as well as the one in the window. Sweep the pavement.
Oh, and pick up the cigarette butt in the alley. Charlotte couldn’t stand the things being thrown on the ground where an unsuspecting animal might pick it up and become ill. Sid did it deliberately as soon as he knew she’d seen him. He was a dirty man on many levels. Butts, poor hygiene, and probably in his ethics.
Charlotte slipped out of bed and stretched, pushing the thought of the police officer away. Instead of lingering over coffee, Charlotte dressed and grabbed a shopping bag. She’d thought of a few things to add to her stash and wanted to have a look at the roundabout in daylight.
She went there first. No other shops were open yet, apart from the supermarket, but a couple of traders waved to her from behind their windows. It was nice to know her way around, and the doubts of her first week here were eroding. From the corner, Charlotte stared at the roundabout. Cars going through went particularly slowly as the
ir drivers gaped at the empty space where the huge tree once stood. The mess was as she remembered.
Sid had done nothing. Nothing, other than act like a creepy-cop by standing opposite her residence. In between cars, Charlotte crossed onto the roundabout to look at the tyre tracks. Something made her take some more photos, quickly, so nobody saw what she did. Then, she crossed to the other corner and headed for the supermarket.
Charlotte found a Christmas star small enough for her tree, and a gingerbread house kit. The latter was a complete impulse buy and she grinned.
Much as she was enjoying the customers, Charlotte’s stomach turned a bit when the book club ladies followed each other through the open front door.
Octavia looked her up and down and sniffed. Charlotte remembered Rosie’s instructions to smile and kept smiling. If Octavia had an issue with her, then that was the other woman’s problem.
Marguerite didn’t even look Charlotte’s way, but Glenys rushed over. “Did you see? Our beautiful Christmas tree is gone! Gone in the middle of the night!”
“I know.”
“How do you know?” Octavia appeared from nowhere. “What do you know about it?”
Smile.
“I was at the supermarket earlier and saw the cars going so slowly around the roundabout. Quite shocking someone would do such a thing.”
“Oh? I’d have thought you’d have heard something. Gone to check it out.”
Was Sid sharing everything with his wife? “How may I help you ladies this morning?”
“We want to place an order.” Glenys said. “We’ve decided to go with the book from the other day for our next meeting, so need a few copies.”
“Of course. I’ll get the orders book.” Charlotte took off for the counter. The ladies were over in the thriller and mystery corner when she caught up with the open book. “How many copies shall I order?”
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