Hayley, in her pretty new dress, was spinning around the floor with Tate, oblivious to the world. Just a single, soft lamp illuminated the two of them, making the scene closed and intimate.
Gemma crept across the grounds and onto the patio. Like a thief marking a house, she hid and watched them through the glass walls.
Everything she wanted was in there.
Tate lifted his chin, looking straight at her. He must have caught sight of a dim spot of light on her body just before she concealed herself.
Bowing to Hayley, he ended the dance. He opened one of the many glass doors that lined the patio and let Hayley out. She ran across to the cabins.
Tate lingered there, making Gemma's lungs hurt from holding her breath.
“You might as well come out, Gemma.” He shrugged, a wry smile positioned on his face.
She slid out, unfolding her limbs.
“Come in,” he said.
Once she’d stepped inside, he closed the door and extended his hand. “Let's dance.”
“But… I'm wearing—” She was acutely aware of the old T-shirt she had on and her sodden hair. No pretty, pretty party dress for me. Tate only gave gifts to those who were worth it.
“You look beautiful. Trust me.”
She didn’t trust him. She wasn’t beautiful.
He took her into a slow-moving waltz. Quiet, seductive jazz music played from concealed speakers.
“Gemma…” He sighed. “I'd like you to try a little harder with the recruiting. I'm going to need more people soon. And I know you can do it. You have the talent. You could do better even than Dharma.”
“I—” She stopped. She wanted to defend herself and tell him that Clay had gotten in the way. But she didn't want to mention his name and have Tate unhappy with him. Then again, Clay was leaving, so did it even matter?
“Tell me,” he said gently.
“It's nothing. Just, Clay thinks I'm his girlfriend, and I was kind of tripping over him on the harvest afternoon.”
“Do you feel the same way?”
“No.”
Tate caressed her temples. “Good. Entanglements can get messy on the farm. Gemma, Clay hasn’t adequately explained where you both went the morning that he took the car. I can't tell you how disappointed I am.”
“It was just into town. For some different scenery.”
“The two of you didn’t look like people who’d just been on a scenic drive when you returned. No, there was another reason for the trip. And I'd really like to know it.” His voice remained steady and soothing, but it was edged with an urgent tone. He touched the back of her head, guiding her in against his chest.
Her heart squeezed into a rhythm that felt chaotic. She couldn't tell him why Clay had really gone into town, could she? It had been private. “It was just a drive.”
He kept stroking her wet hair. “Do you like dancing?”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
She nodded.
“Good. I’m enjoying this too. Things happen for a reason, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“You finding your way to me tonight. But I didn’t really have to explain that, did I? You’re smart, Gemma. You’ve got special talents. You could go far, here. Maybe even run the farm for me one day.”
She didn’t want to run it for him. She wanted to run it with him. By his side.
But he would never want her, like that. That was a stupid dream.
All she had was this dance, right now. Like a moth to a flame, she clung to him.
She felt the hurt inside her begin to dissolve. He offered her wine, and she accepted. They drank glasses of red wine together, watching the party lights’ reflection flickering on the surface of the pool.
Her eyes tracked the shimmering length of the pool as it vanished beneath the glass doors and out to the patio. It occurred to her that she’d never once seen him swim in it, no matter how hot the day.
“You can be open with me,” he said, taking her empty wineglass away and refilling it. “As I am with you. But you haven’t told me everything.”
“I have been open. And I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I’m still learning, and I mess up sometimes.”
“I can forgive you messing up. But I can’t forgive dishonesty.”
She gulped the wine he handed her, not trusting herself to speak, hoping he would dance with her again.
“Okay, then, Gemma, maybe you should go and get some sleep,” he said in a dismissive tone.
It was if a veil had been thrown over her, shadowing her.
She took a step away, placing the wineglass down on a side table. She knew she should have kept walking.
But she turned back to him. “Clay is seeing a psychiatrist. He's been having nightmares… about dead people. He thinks something is… wrong… with this farm.”
The words just slipped out.
She held her breath, an ashen taste in her throat, watching a dark expression stitch itself into the lines and hollows of Tate's face.
She wished she could take those words back.
But it was too late.
26
Hayley
It was back out to the fields today, and Hayley couldn't stop humming the earworm that had been stuck in her head for several days. It was a pretty song, but she couldn't remember the words, and Gemma was clearly fed up with it.
Her skin had toughened up against the sun's intense rays, turning opal into gold. It brought the highlights out in her hair and the freckles on her cheeks. Hayley had adapted to this place. She'd opened herself up and let it in. When she’d first arrived at the farm, she'd wanted to leave her paranoia, her suspicions, her trauma behind. She'd wanted love. And she'd found it.
Now she was a different person.
The farm was perfection.
Except…
There was sap on her fingers, so she moved over to the harvester to wash the sap away. As she went, Gemma caught her arm.
“Did you see Clay at breakfast?”
It was the first time Gemma had spoken to her all morning, and now Gemma had her attention, she was noticing how on edge Gemma was. She couldn't stand still, readjusting her weight from one foot to the other. She'd been biting her thumbnail most of the morning which wasn't a good idea when dealing with mango sap, as Hayley had pointed out earlier.
“No, I didn't see him,” Hayley said. “He's probably running errands for Tate.”
“I overslept,” Gemma said. “I thought he might be in the fields but…” Gemma shrugged in an exaggerated way as though overemphasising the fact it didn't matter. But perhaps it did matter.
“I didn't see much of you at the party,” Hayley said. “Is everything all right?”
“It's fine.” Gemma went back to using her pole to pick the fruit, aligning carefully with the branches so as not to damage the mangoes.
“We've not been spending much time together, have we?” Hayley noted.
“No. You've been with Tate.” There was a clipped edge to Gemma's voice that caught Hayley's attention.
“We all spend time with Tate,” Hayley replied. “We're his orchids.”
“You are, anyway.”
“We're a family, Gem. I hope you're all right.”
Hayley finally went to wash her hands and then continued on with the fruit picking, that same refrain popping into her mind. Her body fell into a rhythm, and time hurried on as though it had somewhere to be. Hayley was at peace.
Except…
There was a niggle at the back of her mind that she could not figure out. It had no right to be there and Hayley was sure that she had told it to go away. Like any unwanted guest it kept on coming back, knocking at her door impatiently. Knock knock.
On your knees.
She hummed the tune more loudly.
“Would you shut up?” Gemma gave Hayley a low-lidded glare that immediately silenced her. “You're as bad as Ellie.”
They continued in silence u
ntil the morning shift was completed. Hayley and Gemma didn't speak to each other for the duration, and for once Hayley was glad. Gemma made her feel tired these days. Looking at her friend only reminded her of a time before the farm that she didn't want to go back to, and she certainly didn't want to answer the knocking on the door of her mind that she was trying so desperately to ignore.
Despite their tense morning, Hayley still followed Gemma to the food hall for lunch and sat with her, Eoin, and Dharma. Perhaps it was because Gemma had brought it up earlier, but Hayley noticed that Clay wasn't with them, which was strange because Clay and Eoin usually stayed together. There was bound to be a good explanation for Clay’s absence, so she decided to not question it.
Sure enough, after Gemma asked Eoin where Clay was, the explanation was given.
“He's gone. Up and left. I guess the lad didn't have what it takes to stay.” Eoin moved some of his hair out of his eyes and smirked. “It's a shame, like, but it's his call.”
“Right,” Gemma mumbled. She stabbed a piece of broccoli but didn't bother to eat it, instead she sat there glaring at it. Then she shook her head slightly and seemed to snap out of her anger. “Like you said. It was his call.”
“I guess he had some demons to get rid of,” Dharma chimed in. “I heard he wasn't all there.”
“Is that so?” Eoin turned towards Dharma in interest. “He always seemed all right to me, but you never can tell.”
Gemma looked away from a moment but then sighed and went back to eating. Despite all the bluster, Hayley could have sworn that Gemma was upset.
“I don’t know why people leave here.” Hayley shook her head.
Eoin nodded. “Why would anyone want to? It's paradise here. This place is everything you want and more. It’s amazing.”
Hayley agreed enthusiastically, pleased that there was at least one other person who understood. Maybe she’d misjudged Eoin when she'd first met him.
“Listen you two,” Eoin said. “The Chemist’s got a big job for you tonight. You need to go up to the house at sunset.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting!” Hayley remarked.
“He wanted both of us?” Gemma leaned across her meal, her eyes brighter than Hayley had seen them for a while.
“That's what the big man said,” Eoin replied with a shrug.
“I wonder why sunset?” Hayley said. “Maybe we're going to be part of the night-picking mango crew.”
“Have fun with that,” Dharma said with a grin. “It's bloody hard work.”
“Could be.” Eoin cut his chicken breast in half. “Could be something else altogether.”
It was dusk before she saw Gemma again, who came back to the cabin with her pad of paper tucked underneath her arm. She put it away inside her bedside table and then finally looked at Hayley.
“Are you ready to go?” Gemma asked.
“Yeah.”
There was a new calmness about Gemma, but she also seemed paler than usual, and that thumbnail was bitten down to the quick. She even fumbled with her keys as she locked up their cabin.
“Are you nervous?” Hayley asked.
Gemma let out a low laugh. “I think I am. But this is good, isn't it? Being chosen by Tate? I mean, you should know, you get chosen by him all the time.”
“I guess so,” Hayley admitted. They began a slow walk up to the house. “I think… Oh, it sounds ridiculous.”
“No, go on.” Gemma's voice was softer now.
“I think maybe we have a connection. I mean… we haven't done anything, but… Well, I just hope he feels the same way I do. I think he's amazing. I think this place is amazing.”
“I don't think that's ridiculous,” Gemma replied. “I think that's truthful. But…”
“But what?”
“Nothing,” Gemma replied.
“No, go on. Be honest.”
“I think it’s great that you both have a connection like that. You should go for it. You really should. And you can handle it, can’t you? If he rejects you, I mean. I’m sure he won’t, but you can handle it. Can’t you?” She smiled, her voice gentle, but her eyes strangely hard. “God, can you imagine being rejected by Tate Llewellyn? It’d break me.”
Hayley’s own smile faltered. “I can handle it. If it happens.” But inside she felt like nothing more than raw meat waiting for a beating.
The glass walls of the house glowed with moonlight. They trod softly over the lawn where the parties are held and past the pool and the patio area where Tate usually had appetisers laid out. Hayley felt like this was home now, whereas when she first arrived she’d felt like an outsider. She walked up to the glass doors and opened them. She had worked up here a few days this week, assisting Tate in the lab and felt at ease walking into the house like this. She wasn't a scientist, so all she did in the lab was wash equipment and… and… water the orchids and… wait. She couldn't picture the faces of the scientists she'd helped. Why was that?
She pushed that thought out of her mind as Tate descended the stairs from the first floor of the house.
“Girls. It's so good to see you both.” He walked over to Hayley, placed his hands on either side of her face and smiled intently, his eyes shining with love. When he released her, Hayley let out a little gasp of surprise and disappointment. She wanted his hands on her forever. Then he moved across and greeted Gemma. “I'm glad Eoin passed on the message. It was an important one. What you both are about to do is so fundamental to what I’m trying to achieve here, but I think you're both ready. In fact, I'm sure of it.” He stepped back to Hayley. “You, Hayley, have shown me this week that you can handle responsibility. You are willing to do what it takes to make sure this farm continues on. You care about the legacy.”
“I do,” Hayley said.
“And you, Gemma, are keen to show me the same thing. You want to take a bigger part, to prove yourself, to finally once and for all show that you are a part of this family.” He took her hands in his. “And I want you to succeed.”
Gemma appeared earnest as she answered. “I will.”
“I have faith in you both,” Tate said with a smile. “You are willing to do anything for the farm.”
“Yes,” Hayley said automatically before she realised he hadn't asked her a question.
Tate moved the back of his hand gently down her face until his finger traced the line of her collarbone. “My pretty girl.”
She shivered.
A moment later, Tate seemed to wake up from a reverie and sucked in a long breath. “I won't be going with you tonight, girls. I regret that I have an engagement elsewhere.” He glanced out of the glass windows and up at the sky. “The moon is bright tonight.” He frowned like that wasn't a good thing. “Nevertheless, I think it's time for you to learn more about the farm. It's time for you to know what we're truly about here.” He turned away from them both and called out, “Rodney. You can come in now.”
To Hayley's surprise, a large man walked into the room. When she saw him, her blood ran cold. His eyes were like two dull beads in his skull, devoid of emotion. He was an enormous man, as broad as he was tall, with tatty clothing and worn boots. She didn't want to go anywhere with this man.
“You'll be perfectly safe,” Tate said. “This is important. This is for the farm. Do you understand? If you don't do this, you put the existence of the farm in jeopardy, and I know neither of you want to do that.”
“We get it,” Gemma said. “But maybe tonight isn’t… ummm, Hayley, didn’t you say you had a stomachache?”
“What?” Hayley glanced at Gemma in surprise. What was she doing?
Tate’s dark eyes found her own. “Is this true?”
“It’s nothing,” Hayley replied. “I’m fine.” She shot Gemma a glare. Her throat was dry from the nerves but she didn’t want to let Tate down. Next to her, she noticed a few beads of sweat on Gemma’s upper lip. They were both afraid. “Good. I'll see you when Rodney brings you back.” A slow smile spread across his lips before he turned and walked away
.
Hayley looked at Gemma and hated herself for being afraid. This was for the farm, and she'd do anything for the farm. Gemma's expression was impassive, not giving her any reassurance. Neither did Rodney, who began walking out of the farmhouse and seemed to expect the girls to follow him.
The night had turned cooler than expected, and Hayley was wearing just a thin top and shorts. She wrapped her arms around her body and tried not to shiver. Rodney unlocked a pickup and the girls climbed in. She noticed his hungry eyes as she bent over to pull herself into the truck.
For the farm.
Where were they going?
Hayley's legs brushed up against Gemma's as the truck reversed out of the space and headed out of the carpark. She was on the outside, next to the door, with Gemma closer to the man. That she was relieved about, because the man made her skin crawl and she didn't even want to look at him. Since she'd seen him, her stomach felt twisted up in knots. Her lower body ached as though it had been beaten. Why did he seem familiar to her?
She turned to Gemma. Gemma stared back, her expression stricken.
Gemma began whispering something. “It’s him. He’s the one that—”
“No talking,” Rodney cautioned. “This isn’t a ladies’ luncheon. Tate expects more from you two.”
Hayley closed her eyes and suppressed a sob. Crying like a baby was not the way to show Tate that she had what it took to be a member here at the farm. This was not how a member of the family behaved when the farm was in jeopardy. Whatever Tate wanted them to do was important, and if he was ever going to love her back, she had to do this.
The headlights of the truck licked the tarmac of the road. They'd left the compound and that always made Hayley feel strange. Not only that, but she recognised the road as the same one she and Gemma had hitched up from Sydney. It felt like a million years ago. But that experience had changed her, made her realise there were experiences to be taken, beauty to be seen, people to love.
She took comfort from that. From the girl she used to be. The knocking was there, of course, because it never went away, but she was strong enough to ignore it.
Poison Orchids: A darkly compelling psychological thriller Page 21