Box Set

by Kim Petersen

  Blonde hair swung over her shoulders while her head jerked in an exaggerated laugh. “Relax! I’m taking the boys down to the south coast for a few weeks. We are going to stay with some old friends. I need to get away from Chad. Need some time to figure out our next move, that’s all,” she shrugged.

  Millie’s face relaxed. “That sounds like a good plan; I mean, it would be good for you to get some breathing space.” She stroked Emily’s arm as she scanned Emily’s face. “Are you okay? I didn’t know you had friends down south.”

  “Yeah, childhood friends,” Emily mumbled before she broke into a big smile. “You once told me that I couldn’t find love from external forces. I wasn’t really sure what those words meant at the time, and I used to think about it a lot.” She chuckled as she pushed a thin lock of hair back behind her ear. “I thought you must be wrong because everyone is looking for love. They even write songs about it.” She clasped Millie’s hands in her own and gave them a short squeeze. “But I understand now, Pussy-cat. I loved. I did! I gave all my love to another person, and I hinged my happiness upon him … and that love …” She drew in a deep breath as her eyes became moist. “The thing is, I’m not like you, Millie. I don’t even know where to begin to find the love inside me. Where do I find that spark of God within me?” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I don’t think I’m worthy of that love.” A tear escaped down her cheek. Emily turned away and brushed her face with her fist as she looked down at the twins sucking on bottles with sleepy eyes.

  Millie watched her friend’s intentional distraction over the twins as Emily bent over them, and began to notice a hazy dark blue hue tinged with a hint of lemon-yellow surrounding her slim form. She had cultivated this unusual gift enough to recognise the colours around her friend signified fear.

  “Em, you are just like me. Don’t you see? The spark is the same in all of us; the key lies in how we choose to use that pure energy.”

  She pulled Emily up and gently squeezed her arm in an attempt to stress her point. “You are more than worthy of that love! We all are. The Source wouldn’t have made us had he not loved us. You are thinking too much, time away from Chad is just what you need to get to know yourself again, and what it is you want.”

  “I know, Millie. That’s why I decided to do this. To sort this all out in my silly head!” Emily moved to grasp the handles of the pram to steer her children out through the door. “I’ll let you know when we get back.”

  She stopped next to Millie and hugged her. “You are the star of my life, Amelia Anderson. You always were … I love you.”

  Millie gulped back tears. “I love you too, Emily Turner. Be safe, yeah. Call me as soon as you return!” she murmured.

  ***

  Two hours later Millie was engrossed in conversation with a middle-aged man who had come into the gallery searching for the right piece to give his young wife for their third wedding anniversary.

  “To tell you the truth, I’m really not sure she’d like this one,” the man said, as he referred to a bold abstract work.

  The piece was one of Millie’s favourites. She loved the bold opaque splashes of colour combined with the textured swirls, and it emanated a certain daring character that she admired.

  “Well, perhaps one in the back corner might be more to her taste?” She gestured to the corner where her own work hung.

  The man paused in front of a portrait of Millie’s angelic dark mother, which she had completed months before with a blend of bleeding watercolours.

  “Tell me about this one.”

  Millie’s smile broadened as she began to talk about her creation. She was so completely absorbed in her explanation, that she did not hear the soft chimes of the brass bells that signified the arrival of the New York buyer.

  The man with Millie was swooped up in her enthusiasm. “Such passion … and devotion,” he remarked, stroking the ends of his wiry beard. “I’ll take this one. I’m quite sure.” His face resumed its business-like expression.

  “That’s great, Mr Barton!” Millie said, noticing his gaze diverted to someone behind her.

  She swivelled around to inspect the man who had stood discreetly to the left behind her, and let out a startled gasp. Her breasts heaved under black chiffon with the sharp intake of breath as her emerald eyes lost themselves within the clear depths of a blue lagoon.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  E mily parked her car in a small parking lot alongside what she considered to be the most beautifully positioned graveyard she thought might exist in the world. The tombstones that littered the tidy graveyard spread over the green pastures that sloped drowsily down towards cliffs overlooking the Tasman Sea.

  A fleeting smile drifted across her face, as she knew that this was perfect. She glanced behind her at the boys sleeping in the back seat of the car. They are good boys. Too good for their father. Too good for me. Their lips were smudged with the chocolate ice-cream she had stopped to buy them along the way on their drive to the south coast. But what a treat it has been! It had been their first taste of ice-cream. She figured they had deserved that. She soaked up the details of their sleeping bodies. Their black hair fluffed in soft spikes on top of round pudgy faces. My angels … my sleeping angels. Her thoughts were vaguely whimsical.

  She removed a cigarette from its pack with unsteady fingers as she left the car and took in the view. The inhale of smoke calmed her nerves. The balmy ocean breeze tickled the fair hairs of her arms and danced over her pale skin, and she smiled again.

  White fluffs of cloud hung above the ocean, lazily drifting along the horizon with the spark of a silver lining ringing radiantly around the wisps of their bouncy edges. Emily beheld it all and knew that it was perfect. She observed the wafting smoke of the cigarette that curled between her fingers, and threw the butt on the ground where she crushed it under her sandals. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stood still for a moment to allow the calm to permeate through her. There was no turning back. Life had been good when lived in love. And it shall be good again, she was convinced.

  She walked back to fetch the double pram out of the boot of the car and collect the sleeping twins before any trace of doubt could change her mind. She covered each of her babies with kisses and embraced them, before placing both of them gently into the stroller. Once the boys were safely buckled in, she turned to push the stroller over the vast field of grass. The breeze that had gently swayed the long blades of grass that edged the clearing, suddenly picked up its momentum, and began to gust against her long unwashed hair. Emily steered the wheels of the pram over the rocky path to the cliff. Her ears pricked as they heard the stifling cries of Lachie and Kaleb as the wind gusts unsettled them. Still she pushed on as every step she took increased her feeling of calm as the promise of freedom loomed close. And she knew that this was perfect.

  As they neared the edge of the cliff and the coastline that stretched out before them, her steps hastened and her smile broadened. She felt all limitations loosen, all torment fade, and all blame disappear for the first time in her life. The constant despair began to lift and the torment of the past flew away with the cleansing surge of the wind. Emily walked on against the flurry of air whirling in short gusts from the ocean, against the elements that sought to bring her down again and again. She walked until there was no solid ground beneath her. She walked until she was free from the dark clutches of the black dog that had plagued her for so long. She was free, and in her freedom, she would spend an eternity with her two dark-haired angels that she had freed from a life of straining to survive in a life without love.

  Life had been good when lived in love.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  H mmmm, what to pack? he thought while he eyed the black duffle bag that would hold very few of his belongings. He really didn’t need all that much, because how many items could one need for an expedition such as this? He shut his eyes against the dizzy spin of his mind. He sat on the edge of the double bed and clutched at his hair. A
shooting pain cut through the deepest part of his mind while he groaned at the dominance of the coiling black snake, as the beast anchored itself deep within him. We must go to her and make her pay, it hissed.

  “Yes,” he replied in a hushed tone. Maybe then he would be free of the beast that overtook him. It was all her fault! Cathy was dead because of her. The whole campus had gone crazy since the discovery of Cathy’s body in her dorm room. He had spotted dozens of police officers scouring the university grounds and questioning the students. He knew it was only a matter of time until they sniffed their way around to questioning him. Nobody knew of his private liaisons with Cathy, unless she had spoken of him to her friends, despite him urging her against doing that.

  “Let’s keep this on the low, sugar-puss,” he had told her the second time he had called on her. “Word spreads like fire around here. Let’s just wait and see how it goes.”

  She had agreed to his request in the hopes of snagging him for herself. Had she not known he saw right through her? And now she was dead. And it was all her fault. The only difference now was that he knew where to find her. And as it happened, it was a good time to leave town for a while.

  He began to throw a few of his belongings in the duffle bag he would carry on his back during the length of his trip. As he packed, the train of his thoughts lingered over the sweet lips that revealed where to find her. Oh the pure innocence of my darling little niece. How ignorant Arella was to the wheels she had set in motion that afternoon! She was the only soft spot he had left in this world. But as the dark force within him reared up stronger through the years, he had deliberately tried to steer clear of his young niece, as he didn’t want her touched by the evil that lurked inside him. He had always known she was special, but what had transpired the week before almost blew his mind – reliving the heartbreak he had felt when he had discovered his mother had left them at the tender age of eight.

  It hadn’t taken a lot of research to discover that there was a retreat called The Rosebud Retreat, and it happened to be in the Numinbah Valley. He wondered if Arella had told his sister the same information, but it didn’t really matter as he intended to arrive to their mother’s side before Millie, if she knew at all. Silly Millie, he thought, as he gazed absently into the ineffective fan. He recalled the vibration of his speech when he had called those same words into the fan when they were children. Oh, how I loved my sister! He loved her so much that this was the reason he needed to allow her to drift out of his life. He knew instinctively that Millie’s path lay in direct opposition to the one that lay before him. How could the light ever really love the dark? he reasoned, before curbing the impulse to cry for the ache this caused in his heart. Ace had struggled with the battle of these emotions since he was twelve years old, deliberately isolating himself from his family until finally he became cold in the face of them.

  Ace shrugged off thoughts of Millie and Arella. He reached into a drawer and grasped at something furry stuffed at the back behind some T-shirts he was seeking. His coldness melted for the briefest of moments when they rested upon the treasure of his old bed friend.

  “Benny Boy.” Ace chuckled as he remembered hugging Benny Boy close to his boyish heart. Then his chest tightened when he recalled the morning he had crouched in fear, clutching Benny Boy while listening to his father and Millie as they battled about that wooden box. That was her fault too … it was all her fault.

  The sound of heavy footsteps down the hallway brought him back to the present. He looked up as his father knocked before opening his door. “Hey Dad, what’s up?”

  “I’m just letting you know that I will be going away for a few days,” Glen said.

  “Sure. A work thing again?” It took every bit of willpower to control the brooding cloud that permeated him. Taming the wickedness proved to be more difficult with the passing of time. This bothered him as he knew he had to keep some control over the evil force within him or it would eventually control him completely.

  Glen’s eyes settled on the half-filled duffle bag that lay on Ace’s bed. “Yes. Are you off somewhere too?” he said, puzzled.

  Just fuck off, old man! the black snake screamed inside him. “Huh? Yeah.”

  “Where are you off to?” Glen looked at him with a critical eye as it had begun to dawn on him that something was seriously different about his son.

  Oh for fuck’s sake! “Just drifting around on my bike for a few days, that’s all,” Ace shrugged. “Things have been crazy on campus lately. I need to get away.” Ace began to fiddle around with the clothes that lay scattered over the bed.

  “Yes, I heard about that girl that was found murdered recently. Did you know her?”

  Glen watched for the slightest reaction. His son’s stiffening back did not go unnoticed, and that was all it took for him to realise that Ace had fallen victim to the poisonous fangs of the black serpent, the same dark force that had tormented him for all these years. After all, like finally recognised like.

  Ace gasped at his father’s words. It was that moment he knew that his father had finally acknowledged the beast that dwelled within him.

  “Not really,” Ace said casually, turning to face his father.

  “Poor girl,” Glen said without emotion.

  The air between father and son tensed with the raging current of the unspoken knowledge that brewed between them. Ace stared back in defiance, daring his father to call him out. Just try it old man for I am the new improved version of you. His smile confirmed this when his father broke their silent confrontation and left the room.

  “Drive safe,” Glen called over his shoulder. He knew, with a pang that struck his heart, that he had recognised the malicious serpent that occupied Ace too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  M illie recovered quickly after the unforeseen brisk dive she had taken into his blue lagoon. Well, at least outwardly in the way she had presented herself to those around her. She turned her attention back to the art buyer and summoned the most magical of smiles. However, judging by the instant frown that appeared on the man’s face, it was perhaps a little too magical.

  “Mr Barton, shall we take care of the business end of the matter?” Millie gestured for him to follow her towards the counter.

  Mr Barton looked slightly amused at the distinct sudden change in his art dealer’s manner. “Certainly,” he said, stroking his beard as he followed Millie towards the counter. “Good day,” he said, bowing at Damon as he passed.

  Millie ignored Damon as she breezed on past him, not flinching as she marched up to the counter. She sashayed ahead with as much poise and sophistication as she could manage. Inside however, the track of her thoughts twirled in circles. What is he doing here? He can’t just walk in like this. Oh my goodness! Butterflies flocked in her stomach. And where is this New York art buyer? Her stomach started doing flips. Oh, he looks soooo good. Anger surged through her. Stop that Millie! He has no right to come here! Fuck! She felt his eyes following her, smothering her. She stole a glance back to the tall figure still lingering at the corner where she had left him. She caught his smile, and snatched her eyes away from him as she finalised the deal with Mr Barton and bid him goodbye.

  “Come Amelia,” Holly cooed. “Allow me to introduce you to Mr Richards; he is visiting from New York and is very interested in your art.”

  “I’m sure,” she muttered as she allowed Holly to lead her back to him.

  He did look good, much to Millie’s annoyance. She cursed his good looks as they approached him together. She took a deep breath while feline eyes prowled over him. He stood with a slight tilt to his head of hair that licked the black collar of the suit he wore. He showed a brilliant set of teeth as he greeted Mrs Bartlett.

  “Mr Richards,” Holly gestured towards Millie. “Meet Amelia Anderson. She is responsible for the beautiful piece of art you are interested in.”

  Damon’s blue eyes swallowed her entirely within the deep caress of his gaze. “Hello Millie.”

  The
mellow nature of his demeanour infuriated her. Despite the cultivated pleasantness he portrayed, Millie recognised the return of Damon’s ego-driven old self.

  “What are you doing here, Damon?” Let’s see how Mr Confidence handles this now, she thought.

  “Oh my! Amelia!” Mrs Bartlett was baffled at Millie’s reaction to such an important art buyer.

  “It’s okay, Mrs Bartlett. Millie and …”

  “It’s okay, Mrs Bartlett,” Millie interjected loudly. “If you will please give us a few minutes. Mr Richards will be soon leaving.”

  “Oh! Yes, of course,” Mrs Bartlett replied, taken aback.

  However, it hadn’t taken too long for her to catch on to what was transpiring. As she turned to leave them alone, she whispered in Millie’s ear, “I won’t be far away if you need me dear.”

  Millie thanked Mrs Bartlett then turned daggers at Damon.

  “I had to see you,” he said with a slight shake of his dark hair. “It’s so good to finally see you, Millie.”

  Suddenly, she found herself reeling back in time in a flick of a second, and every moment of the love she had felt for him came rushing back to the surface. And with it she tasted that bitter edge presented in his silence after she had wrote to him about her pregnancy. Millie steeled herself as she relived that wrenching moment, and a teenage pregnancy he had left her to endure alone. No! No! Millie thought, digging her heels in, He turned his back on me. How easy was it for him … No! My life is just as I want it; I didn’t ask for this! Her stomach began to churn uncomfortably. Or did I?

  She tried to clear the persistent tickle in her throat, and dragged her eyes away from his gaze. He had always been exceptional at deciphering her mood through her eyes, and she couldn’t risk him seeing the remnants of feelings that remained within her for him.

  “Well, I guess you’ve seen me. Now, you can leave,” she said.

  “Millie.” Damon ran his fingers through his hair.