The Lost Valley

by Jennifer Scoullar

  ‘Then why are you sitting here? Why aren’t you on your way to Binburra?’

  ‘What good would that do? They’ll have moved the body by now.’

  ‘The body?’ Emma was shaking, her face a combination of anger and grief. ‘Don’t you dare describe my beautiful Tom as the body. Not the sweetest, kindest, bravest man in the world.’

  Kitty tried to make sense of Emma’s reaction. This was more than the response of an affectionate sister-in-law. No, Emma was in love with Tom. Damn — even if the police ruled his death as accidental, Emma might not let it go.

  Kitty pressed her hand against her forehead. She was getting the headache from hell. Where, oh where, was Harry? A knock came at the door. But Harry wouldn’t knock, he’d use his key. The police again? A rising panic claimed her. Had Harry talked, implicated her somehow? None of this was her fault, she’d been at the hotel last night. She’d done nothing wrong.

  Kitty felt a sudden urge to flee, but where to go? She had no connections in Hobart other than Harry, and he’d abandoned her. Her mind flashed back to that glorious time in London, when she’d first met Tom, when she’d been the toast of the town. The knock came again. Perhaps she could escape through the connecting suite? But before Kitty could move her frozen feet, Emma opened the door.

  Chapter 43

  Tom stood before them, dirty and dishevelled, covered in ash, with a wild look in his eyes. Emma screamed and threw herself into his arms, smothering his filthy face in kisses. He enfolded her in a fierce embrace while Kitty watched in disbelief.

  She ran her tongue over chapped lips. If Tom had survived the fire, if he hadn’t died in the house … Oh God. A strangled cry. Could the burned body be Old George or Mrs Mills? But Harry said they were in Sydney. She went numb with fear. If Harry was dead, she was lost. Pregnant, with no money, no job, no friends. All her eggs in one basket that had burned to cinders.

  Tom turned to look at her. Kitty tried to smile, tried to make a convincing show of being happy to see him. But she couldn’t do it. She was too frightened about tomorrow. Too heartbroken that her husband was alive, and Harry was dead.

  * * *

  Tom disengaged himself from Emma’s arms, rage churning inside him. ‘You don’t look pleased to see me, Kitty. I’m disappointed. I thought you were a better actress than that.’

  ‘Of course I’m happy. I’m still your wife, remember.’

  ‘Oh, I remember. You’re the one who forgot.’

  ‘I’m sorry, babe.’ Kitty’s eyes darted to and fro, like a rat in a trap. ‘I was confused. This thing with Harry — a crush, that’s all. A stupid infatuation. It’s you I truly love.’ She ran to Tom and tried to kiss him.

  He shoved her away. ‘Has anyone seen Harry?’

  Emma put a hand on his arm, face full of tenderness and concern. ‘They found a body, Tom. In the burned out homestead. They thought it was you.’

  Tom’s bottom lip quivered. Unable to dam the flood of tears, he turned the full force of his rage and sorrow onto Kitty. ‘If Harry’s dead, it’s all too late.’ He tried to breathe, but couldn’t fill his lungs. He was suffocating, choking as he had in the plane crash, choking the way Harry would have when the searing smoke filled his airways and the flames melted his flesh. ‘We could have got through this, my brother and me. We could have made things right between us. Harry just needed help to see a way through, but you did the opposite. You poisoned everything good in him.’

  Kitty turned to run, but he grabbed her arm and wrested her back. ‘What about the baby?’

  ‘You’re hurting me.’

  She wriggled and kicked and squirmed, but he held fast. ‘We both know it could be mine.’

  ‘Stop it, both of you!’ Emma screamed. ‘Let her go!’

  He looked past his anger to the fear on Kitty’s face. Tom allowed her wrist to slip from his fingers. She dashed for the door of the adjoining room, threw it open and slammed it shut behind her.

  Tom gathered Emma to him.

  ‘Thank God you’re alive, Tom,’ she whispered, over and over again.

  It sounded like a prayer. Tom could feel her ragged breathing, hear the beat of her heart – wished they could stay like that forever. He brushed a tangled lock of hair from her face, which was damp with tears. Guiding Emma to the couch, he sat her down.

  ‘What happened?’ she managed. ‘Tell me.’

  Tom shut his eyes and steeled himself to tell the story. ‘Harry came round last night with a cheque, three times what he’d offered before. I refused it, of course, but we talked. It mightn’t have seemed much to you if you’d been there, but we talked about when we were children, and about Nana. Harry opened up. It was the sort of connection I’d craved for years. He told me Kitty was pregnant, and then I went to get us some sandwiches. When I came back Harry was different — cold and angry. He left in a hurry.’

  Tom was shaking and Emma took his hand.

  ‘I started to feel sick and dizzy. Thought it was the whisky, but now I reckon Harry put something in my drink.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘It’s the only explanation for what happened. I went down to the stable to check on Karma, and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I sat in her pen and nodded off, until the little mongrel bit me.’ He pulled up his sleeve and showed Emma a crescent-shaped red wheal. ‘Just in play, mind, but it was painful enough to wake me. I heard a kind of roaring noise and saw a red glow outside. I was so groggy it was a struggle to get to that door. Last thing I remember was seeing the house ablaze … and Harry.’ His voice broke. ‘Harry running back inside.’

  ‘Oh my God. You didn’t stop him?’

  ‘I couldn’t.’ Tom could barely get the words out. His heart felt like somebody was twisting it in a vice. ‘I passed out in the hay. Woke up this afternoon feeling like a train had hit me. Nana’s beautiful home all gone, burned to the ground. Harry’s car was still there, but I couldn’t find him.’

  Emma shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The ringing phone startled them both. Tom answered it. ‘No, this is Tom, Harry’s brother. There’s been some confusion about my state of health … Yes, my brother always carried it with him.’

  Tom put down the phone, chin trembling. ‘They found something in the ruins beside the body — a small nugget of gold that survived the house fire. You know what this means, don’t you? Harry changed his mind. He died trying to save me.’

  ‘Do you think Kitty knew what he was planning?’

  ‘My oath. I think she put him up to it.’

  An anguished scream came from the adjoining suite. Tom tried the door. It was locked.

  ‘Kick it in!’ yelled Emma.

  * * *

  A terrible scene confronted them – Kitty lying on the bed in a flood of blood, her face snow-white and twisted in pain.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ said Tom. ‘What have you done?’

  A bent wire coat hanger lay at Kitty’s feet.

  Emma threw a blanket over her. ‘Call an ambulance.’

  * * *

  After an hour of waiting in the hospital corridor, a doctor came to see Tom.

  ‘I’m here to discuss the treatment of Mrs Kitty Abbott. You’re the husband, yes?’ He pointed to the door of the consulting room. ‘Come through.’

  Emma squeezed his hand. ‘I’ll be right here.’

  * * *

  ‘Your wife is lucky to be alive,’ said the doctor. ‘She lost a lot of blood. It’s miracle she didn’t lose the baby as well.’

  Tom slumped with relief. ‘Can I see her?’

  The doctor took off his glasses and twirled them between his fingers. ‘How would you describe your wife’s mental health?’

  ‘Fragile,’ said Tom. ‘She’s been having an affair with my brother, Harry. We think he died last night in a house fire.’

  ‘I see.’ The doctor took his time, seemed to be preparing his next words. ‘The police have talked to me. Attempting to procure an unlawful abortion is a crime, a crime y
our wife is clearly guilty of. If she’d been successful, it could have resulted in twenty-one years’ jail.’

  ‘Kitty needs help, not jail.’

  ‘I agree. It appears that she is delusional and unaware of the gravity of her situation. Kitty keeps talking about going to Hollywood and making a movie. She was an actress once, I take it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Tom took out his cigarette case. ‘May I?’ The doctor gave him a light. ‘Since we married, her career has taken a downturn. Kitty is obsessed with reviving it.’

  ‘That’s very true. Your wife believes she’s no longer pregnant, in spite of my contrary advice. She also believes she has a plane ticket booked to Los Angeles, and is making repeated attempts to leave the hospital. Quite frankly, in such a state, she presents a serious risk to both herself and her unborn child.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘The police have agreed not to prosecute on the condition that Kitty is committed to a psychiatric hospital for the remainder of her pregnancy. Another four months, I imagine.’

  Tom ran a hand over his face. Four months. The child could indeed be his. Not that it mattered. Daughter or niece, son or nephew — this baby was family and would be dearly loved.

  ‘If your wife is no better after the birth, I assume you are prepared to take sole responsibility for the child?’

  ‘Of course. Can I see her now?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s wise. I’m afraid she doesn’t want to see you. Kitty becomes quite violent at the mention of your name, and keeps asking for your brother, Harry.’

  * * *

  Neither of them spoke on the way back to the hotel.

  ‘Will you stay here tonight?’ asked Emma, when they arrived.

  ‘You forget. I have to get back to Karma. I owe her a lot. That little tiger saved my life.’

  * * *

  The forest was purple with evening shadows by the time they drove up the hill to Binburra. Harry’s car was there, parked where he’d left it the night before. Surreal, to see the remains of the house still smouldering. Tom picked through the ruins in the failing light for what remained: some pots and pans, a brass figurine, a few coins. Heartbreaking.

  ‘You can’t stay here,’ said Emma. ‘Get Karma and we’ll go to Canterbury Downs.’

  * * *

  Tom wandered the grand rooms of the bluestone mansion. Dark, wood-panelled walls and formal portraits. His father had lived here until he was nine years old. He couldn’t imagine a child running and playing in those gloomy halls.

  Tom spread out a bale of hay and settled Karma in the old chook pen. Emma knelt beside him to feed the young tiger pieces of a rabbit that Tom had shot. He reached out to lay a hand on her knee, and in spite of their combined grief and weariness, a shock passed between them. His fingers travelled, ever so gently, up the curve of her back and down again. He stroked the hollow of her flank, and she shivered.

  He took her hand and led her into the house, into the parlour, to the wide Chesterfield couch. Emma stretched out on the soft leather, eyes beckoning. This was a union years overdue. Tom lay beside her, unbuttoning her shirt, then the waist of her jeans – slowly and reverently, like he was unwrapping a costly gift. The hard, painful years of separation vanished and they were young again, sixteen and full of tomorrow.

  With a quiver of pleasure he caressed her warm secret skin, her figure taut and fit beneath him, still the body of a girl. ‘You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.’

  She half-smiled and tugged at his belt, feeling his hardness, making it throb and grow. Love was a powerful aphrodisiac. He kissed Emma’s neck, her breasts, her navel — and she made a small sweet sound in the back of her throat. ‘Now,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t wait.’

  Tom had dreamed of this moment for years. He entered her gently, eager to make the moment last. They moved as one, conjoined in a whirlpool of feelings. Their shock and sadness and grief faded away, replaced with a sense of destiny.

  * * *

  Afterwards they warmed up cans of baked beans and soup for dinner, laughing at the modesty of their first romantic meal together.

  ‘What will we do about Karma?’ said Emma.

  ‘Release her.’ Tom scraped his plate clean and poured two mugs of black tea. ‘Before she loses her wild instincts. We’ll all go together.’

  * * *

  It took them three days to reach Tiger Pass. Tom feared Karma might run off, so for the first morning he kept her on a light chain. This didn’t work. It was like trying to lead a stubborn cat. She fought and twisted and chewed at the chain, so they hardly made any progress at all. When he took the risk of letting her go, she followed along, exploring fallen trees and puddles and wombat holes, but never straying too far.

  As they climbed higher, the world and its problems disappeared. At night they slept in a double swag beneath a dome of stars, secure in each other’s arms — feeling like the last two people on earth. Tom grew impatient to reach their destination. Impatient to show Emma the magnificent lost valley; for her to experience its magic.

  At last they walked in hushed silence through the rocky gateway to the pass. Tom led her along the bubbling stream to the stone ledge above the waterfall. A vantage point from where the true size of the hidden valley became apparent; forests and grassy clearings stretching for miles into the mist. Autumn had gilded the vast stands of deciduous beech below — it was a valley of gold in more ways than one.

  ‘The tigers’ own personal Shangri-La,’ he whispered. ‘Fresh water, all the game they could want and protection from prying eyes.’

  ‘How do we get down there?

  Tom helped her from the ledge, his heart cheering.

  * * *

  Into the Huon pine cave they went. Tom shone his torch at the low stone ceiling where the likeness of a thylacine gazed down at them. Emma’s face showed her delight, and Tom burst with joy to see it.

  They descended the ancient stone steps, with curious Karma chasing after. Past glow worms and whirling bats, until they reached the valley floor.

  Tom shrugged off his pack by the banks of the stream and filled his canteen.

  ‘Rest here,’ Tom said. ‘While I give Karma a bath.’

  ‘A bath,’ laughed Emma. ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘To remove our scent.’ He pointed to animal prints in the damp river sand, as a thrill nipped at his spine. ‘Her family is close by.’

  * * *

  With Karma washed and rubbed with wombat droppings, they set off again. The young tiger grew more and more animated as they went, sniffing the ground and yipping with excitement. An hour later they reached the waterfall, where it plunged in a rainbow of spray from the cliffs above.

  Karma whined, pricking up her ears, and Tom gestured for them to take cover in a low stand of beech trees. ‘That cave at the base of the falls is the tigers’ den.’

  Karma seemed confused, running in circles, but never moving far from Tom. He pushed her with his foot whenever she came near. ‘Go on,’ he whispered. ‘Go home.’

  The pup uttered a series of high-pitched barks, not quite dog-like. It was then they heard it, an answering call. Karma stood to attention.

  With one final shove of Tom’s boot, Karma headed off towards the cave. She hesitated at the entrance, uncertainty evident in the lines of her bowed body and flattened ears.

  Emma touched his arm and put a hand to her mouth. An animal emerged. An adult tiger; a male, judging by its size and large head. Karma’s father? Its jaws opened impossibly wide and Karma sank to the ground, yipping and showing her belly, just as a puppy might. Tom’s heart skipped with fear. What if it had all been for nothing? What if little Karma was snapped up in the big tiger’s jaws?

  He needn’t have feared — it couldn’t have been a gentler reunion. Karma crept to her father, who sniffed her from head to tail. He licked her mouth, turned around and waited for her to follow. The two of them vanished into the cave.

  Emma sank to the ground in stunned silence, eyes wet
with tears. Tom crouched down beside her, and kissed her like it was their first time.

  Chapter 44

  Four years later—

  * * *

  Tom sat with Emma on the garden swing at Canterbury Downs, while three-year-old Fraser tried to tip them out of it.

  Emma shook with giggles as the little boy tickled her. ‘That’s enough.’

  ‘Leave your mother alone.’ Tom grabbed Fraser and held him upside down, provoking peals of laughter.

  ‘Our guests will be here soon,’ scolded Emma. ‘Will you two behave yourselves?’

  ’Daddy,’ piped Fraser as Tom put him down. ‘Can I wear my nugget today? Please Daddy ... pleease?’

  Tom frowned. He’d had the gold nugget made into a pendant, in memory of his brother, and had given it to Fraser. The little boy had started sleeping with it under his pillow — just as Harry had once done.

  Something about that made Tom uneasy. He’d retrieved the pendant with the excuse that Fraser might lose it, hoping his son would forget. No such luck. Fraser asked about it all the time.

  ‘Let him have it,’ said Emma. ‘It’s a special day.’

  Reluctantly, Tom fished the pendant from his pocket and gave it to the delighted child.

  Mrs Mills came down from the house. ‘A phone call, Tom. From the hospital.’ His heart sank. Today was not the day for bad news.

  * * *

  ‘About your wife,’ said Kitty’s doctor. ‘In the considered opinion of our team, her delusions have subsided sufficiently for her to be released.’ A pause. ‘However she doesn’t want to be reunited with either yourself or her son.’