‘Is this your daughter?’ Mia looked at the child. A mop of curly dark hair sat atop a sweet, smooth-skinned face with big blue eyes which stared back at her. ‘She’s very pretty.’
A big smile appeared. ‘Pick book,’ the baby said.
‘Thanks. Usually I have a sitter but she’s sick so Charlotte had to come to work.’
Babies and small children were a mystery to Mia. She had next to no experience with them and hadn’t had any great urge to have her own. Time was sliding by and the opportunity with it. The lack of a decent man was a factor but there were ways around that if she had the inclination. So far she hadn’t.
‘Pick book,’ Charlotte said again, this time with more authority. She held the book up.
Mia looked at Georgia for help.
‘Picture book,’ she said. ‘She loves her books.’
‘That’s good.’ Better than keeping her quiet with an iPad or phone. Where was Arlo?
‘Arlo told me about your theory.’
‘What theory?’
‘That someone shot your father and Glenda. That it was a murder.’ She must have gauged Mia’s furious reaction by her expression because she said, ‘It’s worth checking out and if anyone can get to the truth, Arlo can.’
‘What do you think?’ Mia said tightly.
‘I’m keeping an open mind. I liked your dad. I interviewed him once for the paper and he was really … what’s the word? Gentlemanly. Kind and with a great sense of humour but he kept that hidden most of the time, just dropped in really funny little comments that cracked me up. He was very happy living here and he adored Glenda. That much was obvious even to me and I’m a total cynic where love’s concerned. And men.’
Tears sprang to Mia’s eyes as Georgia spoke and she wiped a hasty hand across her face. She sat on a straight-backed chair by the wall and breathed in deeply.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
Mia flashed her a smile. ‘No, you didn’t. It’s just that you’re the first person in this town to say something genuinely nice about Dad. He was all those things. To me and to his friends who knew him before.’
‘My father did truly terrible things,’ Georgia said. ‘He was a serial rapist. He was arrested but he’s dead now. Despite knowing the damage he caused and the harm, he was still my dad and he was a good one. I loved him. Mum and I are the only people who understand how that can be.’
‘My goodness. That’s …’ Mia stopped. There were no words. Georgia knew better than anyone how she felt. ‘I know exactly.’
Georgia nodded. ‘It was incomprehensible at first. That he could have done those things.’
‘Were you sure your father was guilty?’
‘Yes. Not that we ever suspected the truth of what he was doing but in hindsight there were too many absences put down to work and meetings and so on, and he and Mum weren’t getting on very well in the last year. There were signs but we didn’t know to look. He was only acquitted on a legal technicality. Everyone was shocked because the evidence was overwhelming. Aren’t you sure?’
Mia shook her head. ‘I’m sure he didn’t do it.’
‘That’s what Arlo said you said. He mentioned Linda, an old friend of Tony’s, who told the police at the time she reckoned it was a double murder.’
‘Yes. She won’t believe he did it. Flatly refuses to.’ He hadn’t told Georgia about the dream. Keeping her secret. Sharing the weight.
‘And you feel the same?’
Mia moistened her lips. ‘Yes.’
Arlo came through from the flat carrying two mugs of tea. ‘Hi there. I’ll get another tea.’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
He handed Georgia a mug and said, ‘Come through, Mia.’
She followed him to the living room where they’d sat last night but this time she chose one of the chairs.
‘How are you?’ He studied her for a long moment before he took a sip from his mug. It had a Union Jack and London written on it in blue.
‘Fine. I went to Willoughby today and spoke to an agent about letting the house. She’s coming over tomorrow. The painter starts next week.’ She was babbling. She must sound like a child reporting in. It was those eyes of his. When he looked at her he really looked.
‘That’s good.’
‘Why did you call?’ Her turn to study him.
He put the mug on the coffee table. ‘I ran into Lorraine Smith today. She and Paul are still very bitter so I don’t think you should visit them.’
‘Thanks.’ She smoothed the thick fabric of her skirt over her thighs before she spoke, then interlocked her fingers. ‘Georgia told me about her father.’
‘Aah, yes. The Callum Stirling case. That was over three years ago—maybe nearer four. I was in Johannesburg. Getting sick,’ he added with a wry twist of his mouth.
‘I remember it vaguely. She knows how it feels to love a father everyone else hates.’
‘Yes, but not everyone hates Tony.’
‘Georgia liked him.’
‘So did I.’
He picked up his tea and drank again. Mia sat silently. Was there more?
‘You didn’t tell her about my dream.’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s not mine to tell and I think the fewer people who know the better. At this stage.’
She nodded. ‘Or I’ll sound unhinged.’
‘Have you had the dream while you’ve been here?’
‘Once.’
‘I would have thought it’d be worse here.’
‘Not so far but that’s something to look forward to.’ She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘The agent said she knows some tradespeople to do the kitchen.’
‘Get three quotes if you can.’
‘I always do. I own a house, remember?’ She smiled to take the edge off the comment.
‘Sorry.’
‘Did Lorraine have anything else of interest to say?’
He sat forward. ‘Barry can do no wrong in her eyes. She almost blamed Glenda for not taking him back.’
‘Making excuses for him?’
‘Yes.’
‘And did she say that at the time? When he ditched Glenda and their kids and went off with his new woman?’ Mia asked wryly.
‘I wasn’t here then but I doubt it. She reckoned the poor man was seduced by a trollop.’
‘Good grief.’ Mia laughed. ‘She must be delusional.’
‘Or she’s the one who’s infatuated.’
‘He must be quite something.’ Mia grimaced. ‘Where does Barry the Charmer live?’
‘Not sure but his company is Greenhill Constructions. They have some big local projects going. He’s in partnership with a pair of brothers. Baran the name is. Bruno and …’
‘Johnny,’ Mia said in surprise. ‘Bruno and Johnny Baran. They were mentioned in connection with a court case a few years back. Johnny gave evidence, I think.’
‘About property?’ Arlo produced a notebook from his pocket and made a note.
‘Can’t remember details but I think it was a fraud case involving a company we had dealings with. Not my department,’ she added.
‘I’ll find out.’
‘Isn’t that a bit of a sidetrack?’ Mia asked.
‘Don’t know yet. I’m building up a picture and I need a lot of pieces before something tangible emerges. Some of them will be dead-ends, relevant or irrelevant but I don’t know which is which yet.’
He smiled at her with such a gleeful expression she said, ‘You’re loving this, aren’t you? You look like a dog who’s picked up a fascinating scent.’
Immediately the glee was replaced by concern. ‘I’m sorry. I just … I really feel there’s something here, that something’s happened, someone’s got away with something bad.’
‘They have. With murder,’ said Mia. ‘Barry?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never met him. But I will. I asked Lorraine to get him to call me.’
‘Why? What on earth
will you say to him?’
‘That I want his opinion on the council for my lead story,’ he said. ‘As Lorraine said, Barry is well-known and has quite a bit of influence locally what with his development projects. Quite lucrative for the area. His opinion counts.’
‘You devious man.’ Mia looked at Arlo through new eyes. ‘You look so …’
‘Innocent?’
‘Not quite what I was going to say. Innocuous. Harmless?’
He raised his mug of tea. ‘Cheers to that. It’s my super hero special ability.’
Dishevelled, casual and laidback sprang to mind too but weren’t for sharing with Arlo. The more time she spent with him the more she discovered just how smart and perceptive he was. Amongst other things. His kindness being the most unexpected.
‘What are you doing for dinner tonight?’ he asked.
‘I hadn’t thought.’ Was he asking her on a date?
‘Care to join me at the pub? It’s karaoke night.’
‘Good God.’
‘I know but it’s better than it sounds. Good fun.’
‘Should we be seen together like that?’
‘Why not? I don’t mind if you don’t. Everyone will know I’m writing about Tony by now so it’s only natural. Anyway, it’ll make things easier for you while you’re here if people get to know you.’
‘All right. Thanks. But don’t expect me to sing.’
‘If you come by at about seven we can walk down together. It’s at The Crown in the main street.’
***
By arriving at seven Arlo was able to claim a table not too close to the action on the little stage and not in the centre of the room where he and Mia would be most visible. They’d attract attention anyway, they both knew that, but at least he could rely on good manners to prevail in such a public situation especially with him as her escort. He’d have to endure a bit of ribbing about his ‘date’ but any ill feeling towards Tony would be kept under wraps or Shannon would step in. She and Vicki were regulars at karaoke night.
Arlo pointed out the blackboard dinner menu to Mia. ‘The steaks are always good, so is the curry and the lamb roast.’
‘Lamb roast. I haven’t had one for ages.’
She insisted on paying her share and he went to place their orders and buy the drinks, prepared to field questions from Audrey behind the bar.
Vicki had claimed the next table. She grinned at Arlo as he returned, and nodded to Mia. ‘Evening.’
‘Vicki, this is Mia,’ he said and she extended her hand still with that look on her face. The one that assumed she knew something he and Mia were trying to hide. Like a budding romance.
‘Hello.’ Mia shook hands. ‘Are you going to sing?’
‘Try and stop me.’ Vicki raised her beer glass.
Good move by Mia to deflect the inevitable interrogation about their relationship.
‘Vicki has a terrific voice,’ said Arlo.
‘How about you, Mia? Arlo can sing but he hardly ever gets on his feet.’
‘Neither will I.’
He caught her eye and smiled. ‘Don’t worry. We won’t force you. Is Shannon coming?’ he asked Vicki.
‘Later. She’s on duty till eight.’
‘What does she do?’ asked Mia.
‘She’s a police constable. We live at the back of the police station,’ said Vicki.
‘Oh right. I may have met Shannon … before. I met Senior Constable Perry.’
‘Rupe.’ Vicki frowned. ‘Are you visiting the Bend?’
‘Mia’s surname is Petros,’ said Arlo. ‘Tony’s daughter.’
‘I’m so sorry, Mia. That was a horrible business. Shannon and I are relative newcomers so we didn’t know them very well.’
He should have known Vicki wouldn’t be part of the gossip mongers. She was married to a police constable for starters and relaying all sorts of idle rumours wouldn’t go down well under Rupe’s charge even if she was that way inclined.
‘Thanks. I’m here clearing out the house.’
‘If you need help with anything I’m a phone call away. I have a ute if you need to haul stuff anywhere. I know what’s it’s like. I did the same a few years ago when my grandmother died.’
‘Thank you. That’s … very kind.’
‘No worries.’
Vicki turned away to greet a group of regulars from Jindalee who’d settled at the table on her other side.
‘That was very nice of her to offer to help,’ Mia said.
‘Most people are like that here.’
‘And the others?’
‘Best steer clear of them.’ He smiled but his words belied the lightness he’d attempted.
Chapter 7
Mia had doubts about the wisdom of coming out to the pub even with Arlo. Nothing would have lured her here by herself. She’d intended to keep a low profile, only interacting where necessary, but this bar was the heart of the town judging by the rate people were pouring in. How many of them were the ones Arlo had referred to? The ones best avoided?
She glanced at Vicki nattering to the group at the other table. They didn’t look her way at all. The couple at the table on Arlo’s left hadn’t done more than glance and say hello to him. Maybe she was being overly concerned. Maybe most people didn’t know or didn’t care who she was.
By seven-thirty the place was packed and Mia was failing to eat her way through a mountain of roast lamb, gravy and potatoes. She admitted defeat and placed her knife and fork neatly on her plate.
‘What time do they start?’
‘Eight or thereabouts. They get most of the food out of the way first.’ He waved to someone behind her. ‘Do you mind if we share the table?’
‘No.’
‘It’s Gina and Bill. They were the ones who said I should come and start up the paper.’
Bill was slim, grey-haired and nattily dressed in a red velvet jacket and cravat. Gina wore a form-fitting black dress with a plunging neckline, black stockings and a thick shawl woven from naturally dyed wool in earthy colours. Silver earrings dangled from her ears.
‘Hello, Arlo darling.’ She gave him a theatrical kiss and smiled at Mia from under a thick fringe of black hair. ‘You have the most beautiful aura,’ she said.
Bill was more restrained in his greeting with a quiet, ‘Good evening.’
‘Please join us,’ said Arlo. ‘This is Mia.’
‘Thank you. We’re a bit late,’ said Gina and settled herself on a chair. She studied Mia at close quarters. ‘You must be Tony’s girl. How are you, darling? We’re so sorry about what happened. Such a tragedy.’ Her expression morphed into sympathetic misery as she placed a be-ringed hand on Mia’s arm. ‘We’re Gina and Bill. If there’s anything we can do, just say so.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’ Kind but rather alarming with it.
‘Forgive Gina, Mia,’ said Bill. ‘She can be a bit dramatic.’
Gina turned with an imperiously raised eyebrow. ‘I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.’
Bill winked at Mia and said, ‘Can I get you a refill, Mia? Arlo, what’ll it be?’
Mia nodded.
‘Two house reds, thanks.’
‘I’ll get a bottle,’ said Bill. He threaded his way through the crush towards the bar.
‘Gina and Bill started the local music and drama society last year,’ said Arlo. ‘They did Gilbert and Sullivan and it was a smash hit.’
‘What’s next?’
‘We’re in rehearsal for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,’ said Gina. ‘It’s a stretch to put on a musical every year so we thought we’d alternate with a play. We open July 21st.’
‘That’s a great play,’ said Mia. ‘I’ve only seen the movie version though.’
‘Isn’t it wonderful? Elizabeth Taylor is sublime. And Paul Newman? Such a handsome man. Those eyes.’ She clutched her hands to her chest.
Arlo caught Mia’s eye and smiled. Blue eyes too. Just like handsome Paul Newman.
‘Are you in it, Arlo? Pla
ying Big Daddy?’ she asked.
‘Good Lord no,’ said Gina. ‘We rely on him for our reviews and our press releases.’
‘It’d look like bias if I wrote it up and starred in it as well,’ he said.
‘Who says you’d star?’ asked Gina. She turned to Mia. ‘Our cast is wonderful. Such talent is hiding out here in the countryside. Bill and I love winkling it out from under the haystacks and cow poo.’
‘That’s true,’ said Arlo. ‘Vicki, for example.’
‘Oh yes, that girl can sing. And what a find Abbie Forrest is. Fancy an artist of her calibre living out here and happy to design sets for us for free? She’s done a fabulous southern mansion set.’
‘The landscape artist?’ Mia turned to Arlo. ‘She’s married to the policeman.’
‘Yes, and she’s Georgia’s mother.’
It was Abbie’s husband who’d done the terrible things Georgia had told her about. She drained her wine glass. What horrible secrets they’d both uncovered. Had anyone held Abbie responsible, thought she must have known about her husband’s crimes and protected him? Would she have if she’d known? He’d been a serial rapist. The memory flashed into her mind from the media reports. He’d been at it for years. How could Abbie not have known? The answer came just as fast. Because he’d been devious and clever and a wife wouldn’t automatically assume her husband was a rapist. Why would she? No-one ever truly knew another person. Impossible to know all their secrets and dreams.
Bill reappeared with a tray and unloaded a bottle of red, a gin and tonic and wine glasses.
A waitress came by and cleared away the dinner plates but not before giving Mia a thorough scrutiny and Arlo a grin.
Five minutes later a large man with a shaved head, a beer belly straining over a heavy metal T-shirt, tattoos and a microphone stood on the small stage and launched into a raw, pulsating version of ‘Black Betty’.
He finished to whistles and cheers. When the noise died down he waved a piece of paper and said, ‘Evening, folks. We’re all here to have fun so don’t bugger it up. Don’t forget to put your name down. If you’re not on the list you’re not singing. Maximum two songs and that’s only if we have time. More if you’re Vicki or Wayne and definitely only one if you’re Wal, Stuey or Davo.’
Applause and cheers greeted that announcement.
A Light in the Dark (Taylor's Bend, #3) Page 7