“You all right?” Gemma asked, as they sat down on the cushions.
“Perfect,” Hayley replied. But then she winced. She had had some funny pains recently. Maybe it was her period coming or something. Her stomach was a bit delicate.
“You look different,” Gemma pressed. “Like you've lost weight or something.”
“It's probably the heat.”
Everyone took a bowl of soup and a spoon. Hayley tried a few spoonfuls, but her stomach was still queasy so she left it. She hadn't eaten much of anything recently.
After the soup was all done and the bowls cleared away, Tate walked barefoot into the room and Hayley saw nothing but him.
“My orchids,” he said quietly. Hayley was sure he was looking directly at her. “Everyone close your eyes.”
Hayley did so immediately.
Soon she heard Tate's voice again. “Another perfect day at the farm.”
Another perfect day.
“We give thanks for the harvest and thanks that we are all here together. Every day is a celebration.”
Every day is a celebration.
“The farm deserves protection.”
The farm deserves protection.
“Open your eyes.”
Hayley opened her eyes and saw Tate looking at her. Her cheeks immediately warmed, and she bit her lip. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he did like her as more than just an employee.
The session moved forward, and two new backpackers were welcomed. Hayley didn't notice much about them because her stomach was cramping up.
“I have a gift for you,” Tate said. He took a basket up off the ground and began making his way around the room. “A flower for each of you. An orchid for my orchids.”
Hayley smiled as she waited for her gift. She remembered the day in the greenhouse with Tate. That perfect day. And then…
Get on your knees.
Pretty orchid.
Hayley's hand rose to her mouth. What the hell? She turned left and right. Where had that voice come from? The backpackers looked back at her with confused expressions on their faces.
“Hayley?” Gemma’s eyes were wide.
Hayley hadn't even noticed that she’d risen from her cushion. She turned away from Gemma and stared straight ahead with her arms clasped over her stomach.
“What's wrong?” Gemma tried to put a hand on her leg, but Hayley moved away.
She shook her head and whispered. “No.” Tate's basket of orchids came closer, and in her mind, she saw orchid wallpaper from another room. She smelled lilies and body odour. The few spoonfuls of soup she'd eaten churned in her stomach.
“Come with me, Hayley.” Tate offered her his hand.
Hayley glanced from his hand to Gemma. She shook her head once and then calmed herself.
“It's all right, Hayley.”
Tate wouldn't harm her, that much she knew. She took his hand, feeling as though its warmth was a familiar one. He gently led her through the circle of backpackers and out of the meditation centre.
“I have a stomachache,” she explained, the words sounding ridiculous. A child's excuse. “I'm sorry.” She began to cry, and he put an arm over her shoulders. “I'm sorry.”
“Do you trust me, Hayley?” he asked.
“Yes.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes, I trust you.”
“Then let me prescribe something for that stomachache.”
“Okay.”
“Here, let's go to the house for a minute,” he said. “It'll only take a moment. Then you can take the rest of the day off if you like. Take a nap. Rest and recharge. Would you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. This way, pretty orchid.”
The words made her tense, but she forced herself to keep on walking. Why didn't she want to come back to the house? Tate must have sensed her tension because he squeezed her a little more tightly. They made their way past the reception and up to the meditation room where she’d had tea with Tate before. But instead of staying in the sparse white room, he turned to an adjacent room and flipped open a small white cover to a keypad that she hadn’t noticed before. After tapping in a code, the door opened, and Hayley realised from the hospital bed that this was a sick bay.
“Hop onto the bed for me Hayley.”
“W—what's going to happen?” She asked.
“I thought you trusted me,” he replied, one eyebrow arched.
“I do… I just…”
“Like I said. I'm going to prescribe something for that stomachache, and you'll feel all better.”
Tate unlocked a storage cupboard and rummaged through it. When he appeared with a needle and a bottle of medication, Hayley's eyes widened.
“I don't…”
“It won't hurt.”
“I don't think I…”
“You'd do anything for the farm, wouldn't you, Hayley? This is your home. You want to make me happy, don't you? We're a family.”
“Yes,” she said, hating this, hating the way she felt inside, like everything was a broken mess.
“This will make you feel better. It'll take that stomachache away, and you won't even remember you had it.”
25
Gemma
Blinking back hot tears, Gemma snatched the orchid that Tate had given her from behind her ear. Stalking out of the hall, she shredded the orchid into tiny pieces. Tate’s taken Hayley away with him yet again.
He’d been attentive to Hayley lately. Checking how she was, having her do special tasks for him. Touching her. Helping her. Like she was some kind of delicate flower. While Gemma worked relentless hours out in the fields with Freddy and the others.
It wasn’t fair.
More than anything, she seethed about the attention he gave Hayley and didn’t give to her.
Why am I so obsessed with Tate? Who cares?
She cared. An unexpected rage bristled through her. She hadn’t realised just how deeply she cared until the day Clay asked her to leave the farm.
Maybe she'd fallen for Clay—crazy Clay who needed to see a shrink—but she craved Tate. Craved him like a drug. She’d never met anyone like him. For the first time in her life, she felt important and like she was actually special. Only Tate made her feel that way. Tate was the sun watching over the farm, and everything revolved around him. Everyone here wanted to live in the warmth of that sun.
She couldn’t leave Tate. Clay thought she’d be going with him. She didn't know how to tell him she wouldn't.
Crumpled, velvety petals fell through her fingers as she looked up in time to see Hayley coming from the house. She’d seemed ill during the meditation, but it must have just been a ploy.
Hayley stepped out into the baking sunshine.
“Everyone’s heading out to the springs for the Harvest Friday thing,” Gemma told her stiffly. “You’d better get ready.”
A small, wan smile flickered on Hayley’s face, but her eyes remained vacant. “Oh… I’m just going to go lie down in the cabin. I’m really tired.”
Gemma failed to keep her voice steady. “Tired from what? You’ve been given cushy jobs in the greenhouses most of the week.”
“I’m just tired, all right? Tate said it was okay for me to stay behind this afternoon.”
“Whatever.” Gemma wanted to say more, but there was a brittle strangeness in Hayley’s tone that stopped her.
Hayley hummed as she headed away.
Just like Ellie. Ellie had often gone vacant in the eyes as she hummed. Gemma felt unsettled for a moment, but then her anger burned the thought to ashes.
She rode out of the gates in an SUV with Clay, Eoin, and Dharma. Hayley remained in her cabin.
Dharma had insisted on taking the wheel. They went in the opposite direction to last Friday, turning east a short distance down the road—this time to Kakadu. She knew of that place—all Australians had. But it was mythical to her, and she had no idea what to expect.
Miss chatty—Dharma—told her that the national park of Kakadu was
20,000 square kilometres in size. They had a long way yet to go. The heat began drumming inside Gemma’s head.
The landscape changed dramatically the further they drove in: lush, monsoon rain forest, tangles of vines and red termite mounds taller than two-storey houses.
“How’re you guys doing in the back there?” Dharma called to Clay and Eoin.
“You drive like a feckin’ girl,” Eoin complained.
“You mean, you’re getting there in one piece? Damn shame, that,” Dharma quipped, winking at Gemma.
“What spots are we headed to?” Gemma asked from the passenger seat beside her.
“Motor Car Falls and Gunlom Plunge Pool.” Dharma steered carefully around a muddy ditch. “You’ll love both. They’re amazing, especially Gunlom. It’s like a big, natural infinity pool, looking out over Kakadu. There are fairly long walks to get to each one, so the tourists tend to be the more intrepid types. Like backpackers. We tend to harvest workers while hiking the trails. You know the kind of recruit Tate wants, right?”
Gemma nodded, gazing out at a broad pond studded with water lilies. She knew the drill. Strike up conversations. Zero in on the ones who are alone, the ones who’ve just been dumped by their boyfriend or girlfriend, the ones who seem estranged from their families. The ones who can be helped by the warm embrace of the farm.
The long line of cars from Tate’s farm parked at the visitor centre. A small thrill of excitement zipped through her. She’d do a good job for Tate today. Show him exactly what she could do. If Hayley kept up with her fragile princess routine, she’d soon fall out of Tate’s graces.
The workers all set off on the trail. Clay attempted to walk with her, but she reminded him that they were both being watched by the others and they had to stick to the routine.
She flitted from backpacker to backpacker on the trail, saying hello and chatting with them. She was good at that. She could do small talk underwater if she had to. But she had no luck finding the kind of person Tate was looking for.
Gemma fell into step beside a guy with clear brown skin and wavy black hair. He had his backpack slung low over one shoulder and earphones in.
“Hey.” Gemma grinned widely.
He pulled his earphones out in surprise. “Hi?”
That was all it took. She knew exactly what to say and what to ask. In five minutes, she’d found out that he was a native New Zealander, he was travelling alone, and he was out of money. Back in New Zealand, he lived with his grandmother and hadn’t spoken to either of his parents in the past four years.
He’s perfect.
When you identify a recruit, jump in and lead the conversation.
She let him ask her about herself and then she casually mentioned the farm. He didn’t show interest—he was on his way to Darwin tomorrow for a job he'd been offered. When they reached Motor Car Falls, she stayed glued to his side and determined to change his mind. Peeling off her clothes, she kicked off her walking sandals. She wore her white bikini today—she knew it showed off her tan. He watched as she wound her hair up into a high ponytail.
Establish a relationship quickly. Do something physical with the recruit.
“Race you to the other side,” she challenged.
They dived into the translucent green water of Motor Car Falls together. Laughing, they swam across to the rushing waterfall and onto the rock edge.
Isolate them. Take them somewhere private.
Taking his hand, she took him behind the wall of water.
“Why not come back to the farm and see what you think?” said Gemma, her lips on his ear to be heard above the roar.
He smiled but shook his head. “I need to make money. Real money. Not fruit picking money.”
Seduce the recruit.
“The pay isn’t bad. And… I’ll be there.” She caught his mouth with hers, kissing him deeply. His shoulders instantly relaxed, and he kissed her back.
A hand closed around her arm. Gemma twisted around to see who was behind her.
“Excuse me,” Clay told the New Zealander. “I’d like a word with my girlfriend.”
The moment was ruined beyond repair. And she’d been certain she had the recruit on a hook.
Gemma climbed out from behind the waterfall, a sense of guilt at the look on Clay’s face competing with a seething anger.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Clay's jaw muscles tensed as he followed beside her.
“Exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“Why? What the fuck does it matter? You don’t have to be one of The Chemist’s good little soldiers anymore. We’re leaving on Monday.”
She squeezed water from her ponytail, blowing out a tight breath. “I’m staying.”
“You're what?”
“Clay, I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t even know me.”
“You can’t be serious.” His voice quietened. “Did something happen? Were you threatened?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just what I decided to do. This place suits me right now. The area is nice. I get fed and paid. It’s got everything I need.”
“After all the things I told you? About Ellie and everything? I haven’t told anyone else those things. Because I wasn’t sure of anyone else. But you… you I was sure of.”
“I’m sorry. I hope things work out for you when you get back home.”
She walked back in the direction of the water and dived in. There was nothing left to say.
That night at the farm, Tate held the party that he always did on Harvest Fridays. It should have been a triumphant moment for Gemma. But it was the opposite.
Dharma and two other girls had brought back guys from the trip today. Gemma had returned empty-handed. She felt Tate’s disappointment in her, as visceral as if a knife had been pushed deep into her side. He turned away from her, touching Dharma under the chin and murmuring to her that she was his best recruiter. He glanced at Gemma once more with a look of frustration before walking away.
Gemma had no interest in the party. People, music, and laughter streamed past her as she walked through the house.
Hayley was there, in a long, pale-blue dress that Gemma hadn’t seen before. Hayley hadn’t been to the shops as far as she knew, so either she’d borrowed the dress from one of the girls or Tate had given it to her. Gemma suspected that it was Tate’s generosity.
Hayley stood swaying to the music, sipping a glass of wine. She didn’t look sick—or tired. She just had that dazed look that she had all the time now.
Clay wasn’t anywhere. Maybe he’d taken one of the cars straight from Kakadu and just kept driving. Gemma had come back in a car with Dharma and the backpacker that Dharma had picked up, this time taking over the driving while Dharma canoodled in the back seat with the guy.
Even though she’d made the decision to distance herself from Clay, the thought of him leaving saddened her. At another time and place, they could have been together. Just not here.
Then she turned and spotted a guy slouched on a chair in a corner, drinking and looking morose. Clay. With a girl. The girl, with her over-plumped lips and huge boobs, looked like she was doing everything in her power to gain his attention. It was the redhead girl that Gemma had seen around the farm a few times. She must have sensed that Clay was single again and decided to pounce.
She guessed that Clay was waiting until Monday, after all, to get his last pay before leaving the farm for good. He needed the money. And perhaps he thought she'd change her mind. She wouldn’t.
Still, it hurt to see him with someone else.
Everything felt messy and wrong.
Gemma made her way outside. A band of purple clouds bruised the twilight sky. Hundreds of small bats swooped and chattered in the fading light, the sound almost deafening. In the fields, a small group of people was driving a picking machine along an aisle, testing out a mango harvesting method that was new to the farm—picking them at night. Tate was there in the field, watching them, calling out instructi
ons. She’d heard him say earlier he was putting in new fields soon. To grow papaya and dragon fruit. And he was building two new orchid greenhouses. Soon, the farm operations would be going on here around the clock.
Gemma wandered to the cabin, feeling more alone than she ever had. If staying at the farm was what she wanted, then why did she feel like her skin was peeling away from her body and leaving her raw?
She slept for hours, but her sleep was fitful—tossing and turning.
The noise of people returning to the cabins woke her. Dharma was having loud sex in the cabin next door with her new recruit. Hayley hadn’t returned from the party.
Throwing on a long-sleeved top, Gemma left the cabin and entered the cooled air of the small hours of the morning. Just past two.
For once, she didn't care about snakes or spiders or bats. She was desperate for a shower.
She tilted her head back in the open-roof shower block as the warm water gushed over her. Bats still swarmed overhead, making their eerie high-pitched calls, but she couldn't see them now. The night was too dark.
What was wrong with her? She wished there were something she could do to make herself feel better, to get the high that Hayley was obviously feeling.
She wanted to disappear. Vanish into the fabric of the farm. Forget herself. But instead she felt lost and angry and alone. She’d disappointed Tate. And in that moment when she thought Clay had already gone, she realised she was going to miss him hard.
Stepping out of the shower, she towelled off and then pulled a sleep T-shirt and old shorts on.
She needed to walk. Clear her head.
Things will sort themselves out soon, and I’ll be happy again. I just have to trust.
She passed the well. It reminded her of Clay. It always would.
The house stood in front of her now.
Its grand spaces had completely emptied out. Everyone had returned to their cabins. Apart from two people still dancing.
Breath stilled in her chest. It was Tate and Hayley.
Poison Orchids: A darkly compelling psychological thriller Page 20