The Near & Far Series

by Serena Clarke

  The audience had fallen completely silent, and was listening to this exchange like spectators at a tennis match, back and forth from one side of the argument to the other. At Mrs. G’s questioning, Bee flushed bright red, apparently at a loss for words. But then Holt spoke up.

  “Cady,” he said, in a measured voice. “You’re making a scene. Why don’t you go home and get some rest? You’ll probably feel better in the morning.”

  Mrs. G snorted and started to reply, but the woman she’d come in with stepped forward and took her hand, shushing her.

  “My name is Erin. I’m from San Francisco, and I’ve been a friend of Cady’s for many years, since just before she came home from there. If you can call a place home, when the people there would rather believe a lie than an uncomfortable truth.”

  Murmuring filled the room as the townspeople took collective umbrage at this comment. But Erin was unmoved. “I’m a nurse. I looked after her when she was in hospital in San Francisco. There were complications after the procedure.”

  In that moment, Cady could hardly breathe. Holt’s expression remained determinedly unchanged, but looking at Bee, Cady could tell she felt the same.

  “Complications after the…procedure?” Bee asked.

  Erin looked at Mrs. G, questioning. She nodded, so Erin continued. “After the termination. I was working on the ward that Cady was admitted to.”

  There was silence in the hall as the realization hit. Mrs. G had been telling the truth all along. Holt had lied. To everyone, including Bee. And they’d all believed him—his family, the whole town, even Mrs. G’s own husband, it seemed—while regarding her as some kind of crazy person.

  Having done what she came for, she turned and left the hall, Erin following behind. The residents burst into a hubbub of voices as the door swung shut. Going down the aisle, Cady could hear I always thought and poor Bee and can you believe it? She didn’t want to believe it. Bee was looking at Holt across the room, her face full of confusion. He met her eyes, a laser beam of accusation and questions running between them through the churning noise.

  With Shelby close behind, Cady quietly left the hall. As they slipped out the door and into the street, Shelby gave her a look that said, I told you so.

  “I know,” Cady said. “I know.”

  Mrs. G and Erin were heading down the street. Far from frail, Mrs. G looked in robust good health as she strode along. To Cady, it seemed like there was a certain satisfaction in the set of her shoulders.

  “Wait,” she called after them. “Mrs. G!”

  They stopped and turned, and Cady and Shelby ran to catch up. All the threads of the story were tangling in Cady’s mind. First the love triangle, and the abortion. Then her town had turned on her, then she found and lost a husband, and she’d never had another baby. Babies—well, the lack of. The two of them were probably destined to have that in common, as well as their names.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I really am.”

  “So am I,” she replied, setting off again, unimpressed with Cady’s sympathy.

  Cady followed. She needed to know more. “Why didn’t you tell everyone what really happened? Make them listen?”

  “I did, of course!” She stopped in the middle of the pavement, irritated by the question—justifiably, Cady knew. “But I’d been painted as a nut job. I was always kind of eccentric anyway. And yes, okay, we took a lot of drugs in San Francisco. It was just the scene then.”

  Erin nodded at this. “It’s still the scene, depending on where you put yourself.”

  “Right,” said Mrs. G. “But these narrow-minded, small-town people were totally ready to see me according to his story. I was the bad girl in the triangle. And apparently I was so drug-crazed, I recklessly took enough to kill my baby, and to make me completely deluded about what had happened. What was the point in fighting that battle? I could say what I liked, but the town’s golden boy would always be the winner.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cady said again, uselessly. What could she possibly do or say at this point?

  “Don’t be sorry. It was you two who gave me the strength to make a stand. You were the last straw.”

  Cady and Shelby looked at each other, unsure whether being the last straw was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “She’s so damn stubborn,” Erin said. “I’ve been telling her for years that I’d come and set these bastards straight.” They exchanged a warm look, reflecting years of understanding.

  Then, back down the street, people started to emerge from the hall. The meeting must have finished, or been abandoned. Mrs. G saw them and rolled her eyes. Then she turned to Cady.

  “Listen. I have some advice for you. You might have my name, but don’t be me. If you want to be different, be different. You don’t always get a second chance.”

  Cady’s breath caught in her throat. Could this woman see right through her? “Okay,” she replied.

  Then the two women turned and walked away.

  Cady and Shelby looked at each other. “Holy hell,” said Shelby, the drama animating her in a way she hadn’t been since her mysterious disappearance in San Francisco. “I knew it. I knew it!”

  Cady’s mind was racing. She’d given Holt a chance. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Until proven guilty. What would they do now?

  Thirty-Nine

  They drove home in silence. Holt was grim, and the girls couldn’t even begin to think what to say. Mrs. G had said it all. Back at the house, he immediately wished them goodnight and went up to his room.

  Shelby was all for leaving straight away, as usual, but Cady said no. Apart from anything else, the bee road had to go on. It was all organized, the plants were ordered, and—hopefully—people were coming.

  Flashpoint’s Facebook and Twitter accounts were still sitting inactive, so she’d been cheeky and used them to publicize the first working bee. It would be a big planting, so they needed a big crowd, and if anyone wanted to complain about her hijacking their social media sites, well, they knew how to find her. In the meantime, a little buzz had started to grow online, with people speculating if this was a Flashpoint comeback. Cady let them wonder. After the fun of being with the Flashpointers in Rownville, it felt strange organizing a whole event by herself, and as she worked she wished the others were here too. Especially Reid. But she knew she didn’t need them to make it happen. It was a good feeling.

  Two days until the planting, and then they could hit the road again. If they were needed by the police, they could go back to San Francisco. In the meantime, they’d just have to take each day with Holt as it came.

  * * *

  The next day, he had already gone when they got up. They sat in the kitchen, going over the plans as they had breakfast. Then they heard Bee’s voice, calling a tentative hello from the porch. Cady was more than a little surprised to see her, after the upset of the night before, but she set out another plate and made another coffee.

  Bee added two spoons of sugar, then sipped it gratefully. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Shelby said. “I can’t believe you came to see him, after that. He’s not here, by the way.”

  Bee looked disappointed. “I thought I might catch him before he left. How are you girls feeling?”

  “Oh, box of birds,” Shelby said, the snark heavy in her voice. “Awesome.”

  “Here we thought our mum was the one who’d done all the lying. I can’t believe I’d actually started to feel sorry for him.” Cady shook her head.

  “Cady, he’s not flat-out bad,” said Bee. “He’s flawed, that’s for sure, and he’s complex, but he’s not wicked. Life is all kinds of complicated, I think you know that now. Please don’t write him off.”

  The girls boggled. “You’re defending him already?” Shelby said. “He just showed you up as a fool in public. He showed all of you up.”

  Bee winced. “Of course I don’t like that. But I’m trying to make sense of it. Back then, he had a lot to lose, an
d he didn’t make the right decisions. He’d broken free of his dad, who was so domineering—but as the only child, I think he always knew he’d have to come back and face his responsibilities. On the other hand, he’d had a charmed life, insulated from the world’s coldest realities by his money, and by his looks and charm. It was a bad combination. But a lot of water has gone under the bridge, a lot of years of regret.” She looked at them, challenging. “What’s the statute of limitations on a mistake?”

  Cady remembered again what Holt had told them about his trip to London. ‘Difficulties at home’ hardly began to sum up what it must have meant to the other Cady. He’d said he wasn’t young enough to excuse how immature he’d been, and admitted there was no excuse for it then—was Bee really willing to excuse him for it now?

  “There’s no statute of limitations for Mrs. G, or her baby,” she pointed out.

  “I know that,” Bee replied. “And I don’t want to make light of her pain, now that I know the truth. We were friends for a long time, before. But I’m thinking about forgiveness. I need it as much as anyone. And Holt does too.”

  Forgiveness. Their own mother had died not knowing if her husband and children would forgive her. Cady flopped back in her chair. “I don’t know what to think about anything any more. Or anyone.”

  Their real mother. Their biological father. Bee standing by him despite having every reason not to. Shelby and her plunge from Kyle-induced wildness to broken retreat, and her refusal to say what had happened. Even this new incarnation of Cady herself: half American, part of a whole other family and world. The Cady who was determined to be different, but struggled with the same damn stuff in her head. And then there was Reid, who’d seemed to be one thing, and then…wasn’t. And then kind of was again, backward and forward. Along with certain other body parts, he made her head spin in more ways than one. She missed him like crazy, even when she didn’t know which version of him she craved.

  Maybe Holt was like that for Bee, she suddenly thought. Some people just do that to you. She’d been with him even when she couldn’t have him to herself, and after everything, she still believed in him.

  Bee watched her as she wrestled with the thoughts in her head. “Holt does want to do the right thing by you.” She paused. “And you know…I’d like to have you in my life too.”

  Before either of them could reply, she stood up. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll see you on Saturday. Don’t see me out, I know the way.”

  She left them sitting at the table, wondering about forgiveness, family, and who exactly they wanted in their lives, new and old.

  Forty

  The morning of Operation Bee Road dawned clear and bright. Cady had no idea whether anyone from town would come, after the fiasco at the meeting. But it seemed like there was enough interest online, so they crossed their fingers and went ahead as planned. Shelby was determined they should leave afterwards, and this time Cady agreed. Forgiveness notwithstanding, it had been an awkward couple of days. No one in the house mentioned Mrs. G or Erin, but they were very much there, as much as if they were sitting in the corner of every room.

  The farm workers had put up a marquee the day before, and a hire company had delivered folding tables and chairs, sun umbrellas, a sound system, water coolers, racks full of shovels, and everything else Cady thought they’d need. She hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything vital. Holt had insisted on paying, saying it was all good PR for the Santa Almendra brand, and could be covered by their marketing and promotion budget anyway.

  Shelby was coming back to herself, so in the morning they both drove out with Holt to set everything up, lay out the information sheets and sign-up forms, and make sure it was all ready and in order for when people started arriving.

  It was a beautiful day, and despite the town hall drama, a feeling of camaraderie grew between the three of them as they worked. It felt good to be on the verge of an event they hoped would be something really quite special.

  Then a car pulled up, and Shelby looked at her watch. “They’re early. They can give us a hand, I suppose.”

  Then she saw who it was, and her face changed.

  Kyle got out of the car, still with the beanie, but looking strangely underdressed without his fur vest. Cady and Holt came out of the marquee and watched as Shelby went toward him, looking uncertain and hopeful and wary all at once.

  Wary turned out to be the most appropriate, because once Shelby got close enough, he grabbed her, putting his arm around her neck and holding her in front of him. He’d never struck Cady as a strong person, but it was no contest as Shelby fought to free herself.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Holt started toward them, ready to take Kyle on. Irritated by Shelby’s resistance, Kyle pulled out a gun. Holt had almost reached them when he saw it, but he didn’t stop, just reached out to knock the gun from Kyle’s grasp. Kyle raised his hand, then she heard the sickening sound as the butt of the gun struck Holt’s head, and saw him fall to the dusty ground, his hat landing alongside.

  Shelby let out a scream, which was cut off by Kyle tightening his arm around her neck. Her heart pounding, Cady backed away until she came up against the side of Holt’s truck.

  “Stand still,” Kyle barked at her, and she did exactly that. Shelby looked at her, her eyes wide and desperate as she clung onto his arm, trying to hold it away from her throat.

  “All I need is a little help,” he said, his tone cool and reasonable as he stepped back from where Holt lay, taking Shelby with him. “It’s not much to ask.”

  Cady stood frozen on the spot, but her mind was racing, trying to think what to do. No one else was due for half an hour at least. Her phone was out of reach in the back seat of the truck, in her bag. She looked around, but there was no sign of anyone. Shit.

  “What do you want?” she asked, working to keep her voice steady.

  “I just need some cash to see me through,” he said. He waved the gun toward Holt, still lying motionless on the ground. “This guy has plenty, but I guess he won’t be sharing now. You both have your own money, though.”

  He gave Shelby a shake, and she whimpered. “I would have had your share the other day, but that asshole Reid got in the way. You were both happy to come along for the ride when things were sweet, and use my networks to push your own event. Now it’s your turn to do something for me.”

  At that moment, Cady knew she would hand over every last bit of their inheritance money to see everyone safe. It didn’t feel like theirs, anyway.

  Shelby squirmed, her neck twisted the wrong way in Kyle’s grip, and he pointed the gun at her head. She gasped and instantly held still. Looking at them, Cady remembered Holt’s lesson—keep your finger off the trigger until it’s pointed at the target. Kyle’s finger was resting against the trigger, just a twitch away from the point of no return.

  Then Holt stirred on the ground. As he tried to roll over, Cady could see an open gash on his temple, the blood trickling down the side of his face.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Kyle said, aiming the gun at him.

  “No!” Shelby shouted, trying to pull him away.

  Kyle turned to her, telling her to shut the hell up for once, and shoved her so hard she landed heavily in the dirt several feet away. She let out a cry of pain as she hit the ground. At that, Holt began to struggle to his feet. Kyle cursed and kicked him hard in the chest, and he fell to the ground again, winded.

  “I don’t need you, old man,” he said, and lifted his gun.

  In that moment, Cady took her chance. There was a clear, cold clarity in her mind. As quickly and quietly as she could, she reached in and took Holt’s gun from the glove compartment. Then, as Kyle pointed his gun at Holt, ready to fire, she aimed the Magnum at him. At the sound of her cocking the gun, Kyle looked up, narrowed his eyes, and turned his own gun in her direction. And she pulled the trigger.

  Forty-One

  Fun. Travel. Adventures. A gorgeous man. As Cady sat on the dusty ground in shock, waiting for emergenc
y services to arrive, her mother’s words echoed in her head. Yes, her new start had contained all those things. Just not exactly as either of them had imagined.

  She cradled Holt’s head in her lap, pressing one of the hired tablecloths to his temple. The blood had soaked through the white cloth, but she didn’t want to lift it off. He opened his eyes every now and then, but she made him lie still.

  “Everything’s fine now,” she told him. “We’ve called for help.”

  Shelby sat with them, holding Kyle’s gun, but they left him to writhe on the ground, cursing and clutching his knee, his quiff askew. Cady had tried to aim for his arm, thinking he might drop the gun, but obviously her shooting skills were still not great. Not that she had any intention of touching a gun ever again. For now, though, she kept the Magnum to hand. Better safe than sorry.

  “This is insane,” Shelby said. “You were unbelievable.”

  “Thanks. I hope I never have to be that unbelievable again.”

  “No, seriously. That was incredible.”

  It was kind of nice to have done something to truly impress her sister—just a shame it was something like this. She never would have guessed, in a million years, that she’d go from shooting a water gun the first day she met Kyle at his event, to shooting Kyle himself with a real gun at her own. Thank God she hadn’t killed him.

  The ambulance and the police turned up at the same time, just as the first volunteers started arriving. Amongst them was Bee and a big gang of Santa Almendra locals. Bee came rushing over.

  “Oh my God, are you all okay?” She knelt down and grasped Holt’s hand, taking in the guns and his injury. “What happened?”

  Where to begin? “We kind of had a showdown,” Cady told her. “Holt leaped in to help and got a bash on the head. I think he’s okay though.”

  “Oh, you old fool,” she said, but her voice was full of relief. Then she looked over at Kyle, who was being checked by the paramedics. “Who’s that?”