The House At Flynn's Crossing

by Elisabeth Rose

  ‘Hello, Sarah.’ He managed to control his voice with a superhuman effort, but his body was shaking and his throat clogged with tears. He mustn’t cry in front of them, they’d be even more alarmed. Sarah buried her face against Antonia.

  ‘Shall we go inside?’ said Connor. ‘You two can show Simon the house.’

  He took Jacob’s hand and led the way to the front steps.

  Antonia smiled at Simon. ‘Come on, Daddy.’

  Sarah peeked at him then hid her face again, but not before he glimpsed a tiny smile. Heart bursting, he followed his family into the house.

  Chapter 6

  Flynn couldn’t concentrate. His mind would not stay away from the Tracey house and how Simon and the twins might be getting on. It was none of his business. He kept telling himself that but it made no difference. Antonia had been tight-lipped about the whole thing and her father didn’t give anything away either. Why was he so concerned about them?

  The phone rang, and in an effort to occupy his rogue thoughts he snatched it up before Brandon could make a move.

  ‘Flynn, Margie.’

  ‘Hi Margie. What’s up?’

  She always spoke in shorthand. Margie was a fellow town councillor with big ideas for the area. A retired lawyer, she and her husband had moved to Flynn’s Crossing four years ago and built a big house on their block. Barry did something high up in the finance industry, a job that involved a lot of travel, but he loved retreating to their mountain home when he had the chance.

  ‘I think I’ve found us an investor.’ She spoke calmly but he could tell she was excited.

  ‘Really? Who?’ He sat up straight.

  Brandon sent him a questioning look and he said, ‘Margie, I’ll call you back in a few minutes.’

  ‘Come over here where we won’t be interrupted.’

  ‘I’ll be there in ten. Have you called anyone else?’

  ‘Not yet. I’ll get onto Phil, see if he’s free.’

  ‘Yep, fine. See you soon.’

  ‘Council business,’ he said to Brandon as he went out.

  Between them, Margie and Barry knew most of the movers and shakers in the moneyed classes. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if she announced the investor as Richard Branson or James Packer.

  The house was on a ten-acre block just north of town. They’d built on the crest of a hill to take advantage of the sweeping view down the valley; the home itself was unassuming, carefully designed to be so, but Flynn knew great care had gone into making the place eco-friendly and virtually self-sufficient, relying on wind and solar power, rain water tanks and biodegradable sewerage. When Barry had explained all the details of the design, Flynn had been incredibly impressed. If only the whole town could embrace those methods!

  Phil’s ute followed him up the driveway to the house and pulled up next to him. Phil levered his bulk out of the cabin. If he wasn’t careful he’d keel over with a heart attack one day. He already puffed and wheezed like a leaky tyre.

  ‘G’day, mate.’

  ‘G’day, Phil. How’s it going?”

  ‘Can’t complain. Has Margie said anything about this mystery man?’

  ‘Nope. My money’s on Richard Branson.’

  Phil guffawed. ‘I was thinking Rupert Murdoch.’

  Flynn grinned and knocked on the door.

  ‘It’s open,’ she called.

  Inside, the slate floor of the entry foyer lowered the temperature immediately. Margie, neat and trim in knee-length navy blue shorts and a sleeveless white blouse, appeared at the end of the passage.

  ‘Hello, come through.’

  The open-plan living, dining and kitchen area was the feature of the house Flynn admired most. Long floor-to-ceiling glass folding doors almost the length of the room led onto a paved terrace, one end of which was shaded by a grapevine trailing over a roofed outdoor barbecue area with a wooden table and chairs.

  She’d put a jug of iced water and glasses on the outdoor table, along with a folder.

  ‘I’m pleased you could come so quickly,’ she said. ‘Take a seat.’

  ‘Whose arm have you twisted?’ asked Phil.

  ‘No one’s,’ she said, but she smiled. ‘This person came willingly to the table. He’s interested in the whole concept and wants to expand into hiking and adventure holidays—the mountains. He already has a couple of coastal resort hotels.’

  Flynn nodded. ‘That sounds good. Who is it, Margie?’ Enough of the teasing.

  ‘Sean Baldessin.’

  Phil grunted. ‘I’ve never heard of him. Who is he?’

  ‘He’s very wealthy and he owns two resorts in Queensland which are very well run and successful. He’s smart and he’s honest and has a good reputation. Most importantly, he cares about environmental issues and wants to use this as a pilot project in sustainable and responsible tourism.’

  ‘Sounds ideal,’ Phil said. ‘What sort of control does he want? I mean, what’s the deal? Do we have any say in anything?’

  ‘That’s what we need to negotiate. This is very early days but I think he’s exactly the sort of partner we’ve been looking for.’

  ‘In theory,’ said Flynn.

  ‘Exactly. We need to tread very carefully. A lot of people in town will be deadset against this idea, and a couple of our fellow councillors already are, as we well know.’

  The older, longer-serving members of the council—Judy, Bill and Walter. In their eyes, any change to the way Flynn’s Crossing operated was out. Aidan from the cooperative hadn’t committed either way yet and could well be the deciding vote if it came to the crunch. Flynn had no idea which way he might go. On the one hand, he was in favour of eco-friendly initiatives and another market for his produce; but on the other, he and the others in the place had come to Flynn’s Crossing for the quiet rural life, not to be swamped by tourists and all they brought with them.

  The perfect land for the development was on the boundary of the cooperative, which would mean improving the access road, at the moment not much more than a dirt track, and months of building right next door. The best spot to build the accommodation would be right up in their closest corner, in Flynn’s opinion, and that might be the decider when it came to Aidan’s vote.

  ***

  Simon helped Connor unload the truck and carry the heaviest items indoors, where Antonia directed their placement. Distracted by all the activity and the excitement of setting up their new bedroom, Sarah and Jacob gradually relaxed and stopped falling silent when he appeared in the doorway holding a box of toys or books and asked where it should go. Sarah even went so far as telling him which corner her bed would be in when it arrived the next day.

  ‘My bed goes there.’ She pointed to the window. ‘So I can see the flowers.’

  Encouraged, he said, ‘I can come over and help Mummy in the garden. We can plant more flowers.’ His reward was a smile, which melted his heart.

  By six the house looked more like a home, even with empty packing boxes stacked on the verandah. Antonia celebrated by brewing the first pot of tea in her own house. Simon drove to the shop for milk and biscuits, and by the time he returned the table was set with mugs and an old-fashioned floral china teapot, which Antonia had bought in an op shop on the way back to Sydney on the first trip. She had been surprised to find assorted mugs and plates on the shelves and cutlery in the drawer.

  ‘Cath said she’d ask around for stuff but I didn’t think she’d actually do it.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Simon. ‘People here are happy to help out if they can.’

  When everyone was seated round the red formica table, Connor pulled out his phone. ‘Photo for Jax and Rob,’ he said. ‘Twins, scoot closer to your dad.’

  To Simon’s surprise, they slid off their chairs and came to stand one on either side of him, with Antonia smiling behind Jacob.

  ‘Perfect.’ Connor put the phone in his pocket.

  ‘Thanks for helping, Simon,’ Antonia said.

  ‘No problem.’ In an obscur
e way, her words hurt. Why wouldn’t he help her move? These were his children, she was an old friend if nothing else, and she was a person he wanted to know much, much better. He’d loved her when he was a boy and he doubted he’d ever really stopped. All she needed was time to let herself relax and learn to love him in return. There was plenty of time, and patience had always been one of his virtues.

  ‘We should head back to the motel,’ said Antonia, ‘It’s getting late and we have to find dinner somewhere.’

  ‘There’s the Chinese,’ said Simon. ‘Or the pub has decent food.’

  ‘That sounds better. These two are used to plain and simple,’ said Connor.

  Much as he would have loved to have stayed with them, Simon reluctantly waved goodbye and got into the ute when the family were ready to go. No one had suggested he eat with them, which was disappointing, but they were here to stay and he’d see his children every day from now on. And Antonia, beautiful, strong, admirable Antonia, the mother of those two precious little people. Loving her was as easy as breathing.

  ***

  ‘What did you think of Simon?’ Antonia asked her father later, after the twins were asleep in the connecting room.

  ‘He’ll be a good father. You were absolutely right about him and I don’t mind admitting I was wrong all those years ago.’ He sighed. ‘I made a lot of mistakes when you were growing up.’

  She laughed softly. ‘So did I, and I think I win that contest hands down.’

  He smiled. ‘But you survived, sweetheart. Look at those wonderful children you raised. You’re an amazing woman and I’m incredibly proud of you.’

  ‘I think the twins kept me going while I was there. I was determined we’d get away one day, and when we finally did, I didn’t want that man to shape the rest of our lives. It’s hard but I don’t want him, or the memory of him, to control me. He’s finished doing that.’

  Her hands ached and she grimaced as she looked down and saw them curled into white-knuckled fists gripping the arms of the chair. ‘I guess I’ve a fair way to go though.’ She shook her hands to release the tension.

  ‘Make sure you contact that therapist in Kurrajong,’ he said casually, but the underlying concern was there.

  ‘I will. Doctor Barlow said she was very good.’

  He nodded. ‘I think Flynn’s Crossing will be a great place for you to start out. Cath is very laid back and understanding, and Simon will back you every step of the way. So will Flynn, I think. I like him.’

  ‘So you said.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘I suppose … he’s been helpful.’

  ‘But?’ He frowned. ‘He hasn’t … bothered you, has he?’

  ‘No, no not in the way you mean. No, he’s …’ What could she say? Flynn had done nothing wrong, quite the opposite. ‘He makes me uncomfortable.’

  ‘Why? In what way?’ He leaned forward eyes alert. Dad was not going to let this go and she had nothing specific to say.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s nothing I can pinpoint. Sometimes he looks at me … he has a very intense gaze … his eyes are really blue.’

  He relaxed, crossed his legs, leaned back in the chair and studied her. She had the feeling he was trying not to smile. ‘Are they? I hadn’t noticed.’

  ‘Well, I did. It’s like being under a laser beam.’ Her skin prickled. The room was hot. ‘His eyes are like that actor’s in that old movie you like. The Great Escape.’ ‘Steve McQueen. Maybe he likes the look of you. You’re a very pretty girl.’

  ‘You’re biased. And I doubt that very much. He’s not interested in me other than as a client for a house he can’t sell.’ She got up to wind the window open a little more. The cool air caressed her overheated face and neck.

  But lying in bed later, his comment rolled around in her head. Was Flynn interested in her as a woman? Simon was, she knew that. But his interest was only because she’d crashed back into his life with his children in tow. The novelty would wear off soon enough and she wasn’t inclined to revitalise their teenage affair. She’d broken it off in the first place because he was too naive and passive, and he hadn’t changed. Lauren was the woman for him.

  Was Flynn her type? She had to admit he was good looking, but a man would need to prove himself in more ways than that to stand any sort of chance. And he’d need to be very, very patient and not want to have a family, because after the traumatic birth of her babies and the subsequent violence associated with the attempts at sex, the thought of being touched intimately made her skin crawl.

  No man would be prepared to accept her under those conditions.

  ***

  Connor left for Sydney the next afternoon after hugs and kisses and a few tears. Antonia stood on the nature strip with the twins, waving until his truck disappeared round the corner. Alone. She felt the loss immediately. Her father had been a large, solid, unwavering presence ever since he’d appeared at that house near Coalcliff and fought to save them all. Now it was up to her to prove what she’d been saying, that she was ready to make a life for herself and the twins.

  ‘When will we see him again?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘Not for a while, but we can phone him and Jax, and Nana and Frank every day if we want to.’

  ‘We do want to,’ said Jacob.

  ‘Let’s walk along to the school and introduce ourselves,’ said Antonia. The sign said Term 1 was starting the following Monday so she assumed the teachers would be there today preparing, it being Thursday.

  School would be a massive step for the twins, having been isolated from other children all their lives, except for the two older girls in the house and a baby. They’d eventually enjoyed the preschool they’d been to at the end of the previous year but were wary of the adults in charge. With any luck, their first kindy teacher would be a woman.

  She ran back into the house for her purse and keys then grasped a little hand in each of hers. ‘Come on. This will be our next adventure.’

  ‘Can we be together at school?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘All day?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We might like it,’ said Jacob. ‘They’ll have toys to play with.’

  ‘They will. And books to read.’

  Antonia cut across the playing field, the dry grass crisp under foot. Large trees shaded the asphalt assembly area in front of the white-painted weatherboard buildings and a few cars were parked in the parking area.

  ‘They have a playground. Look, Sarah.’ Jacob pointed to a brightly coloured climbing frame and monkey bars. ‘Can we play, Mummy?’

  ‘After we’ve been inside.’

  She walked across the quadrangle to the main door. A sign said ‘Welcome to Flynn’s Crossing Primary School’. Two tubs of pink petunias sat at the bottom of the wide shallow steps, scenting the warm air.

  A corridor led right and left but directly opposite was a reception area with a grey-haired woman staring at a computer screen. She looked up, smiling, and came to the sliding-glass window.

  ‘Hello, how can I help you?’

  ‘I’d like to enrol my children in kindergarten, please. They’re both five.’

  ‘Twins? How lovely. We already have a set of twins in third grade. Identical girls. What are your names?’ She looked at Sarah and Jacob, who were studying her carefully while clutching Antonia’s hands.

  ‘Sarah and Jacob,’ said Antonia. ‘They’re very shy with new people.’

  ‘I’ll let Mrs Birdie know you’re here. She’s the Principal. Your name is …’

  ‘Antonia Farris.’

  She made the call. ‘She’ll be here directly.’

  ‘Who teaches kindy?’ asked Antonia.

  ‘Kate Armstrong. She’s just joined us this year too, so you can all get to know each other and the school together.’

  Thank goodness it was a woman, although the chances of a male kindy teacher were slim.

  ‘Is it a big class?’

  ‘Your two make eleven, so quite small this
year. We usually number about one hundred and fifteen students in the school.’

  Small was good. Much less overwhelming than the city school they would have attended with its overcrowded classrooms and limited play areas, the traffic noise and the people. All strangers.

  A tall thin woman with short black hair and wearing a black and white striped dress stepped out of a room farther down on the right.

  ‘Here’s Mrs Birdie.’ Magpie flashed into Antonia’s mind and stuck there.

  Mrs Birdie shook hands with a strong grip from a cool bony hand.

  ‘Welcome, Antonia. And children.’

  ‘Hello. This is Sarah, and Jacob.’

  ‘Come in to my office and we can have a chat. Thanks, Louise.’ When they were all seated, Mrs Birdie said, ‘Have you just moved to town, Antonia?’ ‘Yes, we finished unpacking this morning. We’re from Sydney but I’m renting a house just behind the school.’

  ‘With a mango tree,’ said Jacob unexpectedly.

  ‘How wonderful. I like mangoes. Do you?’ Mrs Birdie smiled and he actually smiled back.

  ‘Yes, we do,’ he said.

  ‘How about you two have a look in my special box of interesting things,’ she said. ‘While I chat to Mummy.’ She indicated a large yellow-painted box in the corner.

  ‘Go on,’ said Antonia and they both went wide-eyed to investigate.

  ‘And is the children’s father here with you?’

  ‘He lives on the cooperative. His name is Simon Leith but the children are Farris.’

  ‘Is he allowed to see them?’

  ‘Oh yes, absolutely. He’ll be very involved in their care.’

  Mrs Birdie nodded. ‘That’s good. Have the children attended preschool?’

  Antonia had prepared for these questions. ‘Only for a term, last year. We lived in an isolated area before, so they haven’t had much opportunity to meet other children. They’re learning … and they’re very shy with adults at first. Particularly men.’

  Mrs Birdie’s keen eye lighted on her face. Was it her tone, her words, or was Mrs Birdie very experienced in reading between the lines? ‘Was it an abusive relationship you were in?’

  Antonia nodded. ‘But it’s over now and it wasn’t Simon. He didn’t know. And the children weren’t ever hit.’