by Jaye Ford
Two ways to go, Jodie. Tell the truth or take the scarf. Did she want to sit here in the pub and say, ‘Actually, Hannah, it’s not the cold, it’s something else entirely’? Because once she explained the flashback, she’d have to explain the rest and … She closed her eyes, felt that cold, ugly memory snake up her spine. Christ, Jodie, it was just a damn scarf and Hannah was only trying to help. She opened her eyes, took the scarf, smiled. ‘Thanks, I’m sure it’s just what I need.’
‘So, guys,’ Lou raised her voice. She was back with the drinks, looking between Hannah and Jodie. ‘Now that’s all sorted, what the hell happened out there?’
Jodie shrugged, glanced over at Corrine.
‘We-ell,’ she groaned theatrically. ‘We were in pitch darkness and Jodie decided to pack-march me down the road with all the luggage. Then I fell over, as you do when you’re made to stumble around in the dark in four-inch heels. God, I was in agony …’
Jodie took a large mouthful of the bourbon and Coke Lou had bought her and tuned out as Corrine told her version of the story. The pub was all but full now, mostly men, mostly turned towards the back of the room where the darts were being played. She looked at faces, avoided eye contact, checked her watch. God, how much longer? She was trying to relax. She was. But she was pretty sure there wasn’t enough bourbon in her glass to numb the tension in her gut.
‘Oh my God, Corrine,’ Lou’s playful voice cut into the story. ‘It sounds dreadful. Are you sure you just twisted an ankle? It sounds like you ripped off a limb.’
Even anxious, Jodie had to smile. She watched Lou’s grin spread to Hannah, saw Corrine close her mouth and think about it. She must have decided it wasn’t worth taking offence because a second later, she laughed. Started them all laughing. ‘Okay, okay. Don’t think you’re going to be using those electric paddles on me any time soon, Louise.’
‘Party pooper.’
‘How about being nice for a change and getting me another drink?’
‘Already?’
‘The first one didn’t count. It was just to warm me up.’
‘Oh, sure,’ Lou said and stood up.
‘No,’ Jodie said. ‘The car will be here any minute now. We should be ready to go.’
‘We don’t have to go straightaway,’ Hannah said. ‘I want to see what all the excitement is over the darts.’
‘Yeah, there’s way too much cheering going on for just tossing pointy things at a corkboard,’ said Louise.
Jodie looked at the crowd. Large, brawny country men, drinking beer, jeering and cheering. No need to spoil the fun just because she was a mess. She drained her glass, stood up. ‘Okay, you check out the darts and I’ll go wait for the car.’
Louise caught Jodie’s hand as she passed her. ‘You all right?’
‘Yep, ’course. Just don’t want to keep Matt What’s-His-Name waiting. Go cheer for blue, or whatever you do with darts,’ she said, backing into the crowd, and into a drinker. Beer slopped over her shoulder. She jumped and turned.
He was late twenties maybe, blond crew cut, weirdly pale eyes. ‘Hey, they don’t give beer away here, you know,’ he said, giving her a pub-friendly grin.
‘Sorry. I … sorry.’
He moved towards her, a kind of swagger. ‘I’ll forgive you if you buy me another one.’
Jodie looked around for a quick exit. For all she knew, he might be Bald Hill’s Mr Nice Guy but her heart was hammering in her throat and she’d had enough of the pub. ‘Good try but I can live without forgiveness.’
She shouldered her way past other drinkers, pushed open the glass door then pulled up short in the foyer when a bunch of new arrivals blocked the street entrance. Another crowd of strangers. She looked the other way, saw an arrow to the ladies and followed it.
The small bathroom was empty so she leaned against the basin, taking long, deep breaths, waiting for her legs to stop shaking. What the hell are you doing, Jodie? One, out-of-the-blue flashback and she was falling to pieces, back to a place she’d left behind a gazillion years ago. She rubbed both hands over her short-cropped hair, dragged them over her face. Okay, Jodie, this is getting you nowhere. Remember – you don’t have to be in any situation that freaks you out. Calm down, get out of the pub and wait for the others outside. Matt What’s-His-Name would be there any minute.
She sluiced water over her face, used a paper towel to dry off and straightened her hair in the mirror. Okay, go. She walked back into the corridor, was halfway to the front entrance when the man from the bar stepped into her path.
‘I’m still waiting for my beer,’ he drawled.
He was a solid mass in front of her. Half a head taller and in the confines of the narrow corridor, he seemed just about as wide. He wore a red-checked flannel shirt that clung to broad, beefy shoulders and arms. And he was looking at her with a leery smile. Jodie’s heart pounded.
As he moved towards her, she turned, hoping to dodge past and keep going for the front door, but he blocked her, stepped closer, still smiling like it was a great lark. She backed up, felt the wall against her shoulders, wondered how hard she could jam her knee into his groin with the wall so close behind her.
‘Get two beers,’ he said. ‘One for each of us. We can have a drink. Get to know each other before we go to my place.’
Dear God, he was hitting on her. Jodie tried to keep her face from screwing up in disgust. ‘That’s not going to happen.’ She pushed off the wall, attempted to shove past him. It was like trying to move concrete.
He put a hand on the wall beside her and grinned. She smelled beer on his breath, BO on his shirt, there was a dark splotch on his collar, a rusty smear on his throat. ‘I know your type,’ he said. ‘Practically drag me out of the pub then you want to talk before you fuck my brains out.’
She swallowed hard. Her chest heaved in and out. Fear flared into anger. ‘Get away from me.’ She braced her arms against the wall, lifted a foot and jammed it down hard on his shin. As he recoiled, she slammed flat hands into his gut. He let out an ‘oof’, stumbled back – more from the surprise of her attack than her strength but it had the desired effect.
She watched him as she turned, saw him start to straighten, eyes narrowed at her. She pushed away from the wall, ready to run, and slammed into another male body – tall, hard and oozing aggression.
6
‘She’s not interested.’ Matt planted himself in front of Kane Anderson, giving him nowhere to go in the narrow corridor but backwards. Jodie looked like she could handle herself but as far as Matt was concerned, no woman was safe with Kane Anderson.
Matt had wondered when their paths would cross. He’d been back in town for eight weeks – it was a small town, you ran into everyone eventually – but he’d only seen Kane from a distance until now. It didn’t matter. Matt knew where Anderson had been, he’d made a point over the last seven years of keeping track. Getting promoted to Homicide in Sydney hadn’t prevented that. Or leaving the blood and brutality of the city five years later to join the Detectives unit in Newcastle. He wasn’t the only cop who kept an eye on the ones who got away.
Kane was bulkier than the last time Matt had faced off with him. He must have put in some hard physical work, probably spent his two years in prison lifting weights instead of getting an education. He was still shorter, though, and Matt stood close enough to make sure he appreciated that fact. He looked down into Anderson’s eyes, saw the flicker of recognition in the cold, callous pale blue – and regretted again that he hadn’t been the one to arrest Kane, that he hadn’t been locked up for life.
‘Fuck you, Wiseman,’ Anderson said in a spray of spittle.
Matt ignored the second-hand beer on his face, narrowed his eyes and kept his voice even, an order. ‘Piss off and leave the tourists alone.’
Anderson made tough, squared off, bounced about on the balls of his feet like a goddamn prize-fighter. Matt looked him up and down, contemptuous, wary. Kane had always been on the edge but he seemed more demented than he
’d remembered. Hyper, agitated. But then Matt hadn’t seen him in a while. Maybe he’d had too many kicks in the head in prison.
Matt held his ground, careful to keep Jodie behind him. He didn’t have to wait long. A couple of seconds and Kane gave it up.
‘Fuck you,’ he said again in a last attempt at aggression. He gave Jodie the finger and pushed back through the door to the bar.
Matt watched him go with a humourless smile. Anderson’s insults hadn’t got any more creative since the last conversation they’d had. He turned to Jodie, saw her still pressed against the wall where he’d pushed her out of the way. ‘Are you all right?’
She didn’t look good. Not as in hard on the eye – in fact, it was possible she’d never be difficult to look at – but her body was rigid, her hands were clenched in tight fists and her huge eyes were even bigger. She looked up at him suspiciously, edged down the wall a couple of steps. Obviously not the type to fall to pieces in the arms of the nearest safe man. He moved the one short pace to the opposite wall of the corridor to give her some room.
‘Did he hurt you?’ he asked.
‘No, I …’ She swallowed hard, shook her head. ‘Thank you.’ The blood seemed to suddenly drain from her face. ‘Excuse me.’ She turned and ran the last few steps down the corridor and out the door.
Matt watched her to the bottom of the steps, saw her wrap her hands around her head like a runner trying to catch her breath. He checked the glass doors into the main room. Anderson was at the bar, hands on the counter, head turned away as if he was keeping an eye on the darts. Although he wasn’t, he was looking down and around, a brooding, cagey, over-the-shoulder scrutiny of the room. Matt quickly scanned for Anderson’s brother, Travis. Kane was unpredictable – and sadistic, even if Matt hadn’t been able to prove that seven years ago – but Travis always had his back and could be brutal in his little brother’s defence. Matt figured he’d be stupid to turn his back on both of them after that encounter, at least not without a weapon. It didn’t look like the older Anderson was there, though, so he followed Jodie out into the cold night.
She’d walked the length of the pub and was standing at the corner in the light from the windows. She turned as he descended the stairs, crossed her arms over her chest and started the return walk. It was more of a stalk than a walk, her mouth a tight line. Man, she looked steamed up. A gutsy response after having someone like Kane Anderson in her face.
She stopped a few paces from him. ‘Thanks again.’
He stayed where he was at the bottom of the steps, let her have her space. ‘Nice move in there.’ He inclined his head towards the corridor. ‘Not easy to pull off with a wall at your back.’
She nodded stiffly. ‘Thanks. It seemed to do the job. Although your arrival made a nice follow-up.’
He grinned. ‘A good one-two. Nowhere to go after that but inside for another beer. Sorry about him. Not all the locals are jerks.’
She took a long, slow look at him. Matt pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and waited until she was done. She’d had a tough night, so he figured she was just working out what she was dealing with now. As her gaze reached his face, the tightness in her mouth relaxed a tad, her shoulders slowly dropped and the anger and whatever else it was that was lurking in her eyes seemed to retreat.
She smiled a little. ‘And hopefully all your tourists aren’t prone to dire circumstances.’
He gave a ‘whatever’ laugh. ‘I brought the loan car.’ He pointed to the clapped-out sedan across the road. The driver’s door was a different colour to the rest and there was a dent in the rear bumper.
‘Oh, wow, you should have said it was a limousine.’ She laughed then, that cool roll of sound that had caught his attention at the side of the road earlier.
‘Most of your luggage fitted in the boot. The rest is on the back seat. Where are your friends?’
She gave a tight-lipped cock of the head towards the pub. ‘Inside.’
‘Feel like going in to get them?’
‘Not really. I’ll ring.’ She went to put a hand in a coat pocket before realising she wasn’t wearing one. ‘Except I haven’t got my phone.’ She looked at the pub, winced.
Matt didn’t blame her for not wanting to go back. Anderson was in there. ‘I’ll go.’ He took off his coat, tossed it to her. ‘Put that on so you don’t freeze out here. The car key’s in the right pocket. Let yourself in.’ He turned to leave then stopped. ‘Maybe you should show me that move again before I head in.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘It takes a lot of practice. You haven’t got time.’
‘My mobile’s in the other pocket. If I don’t come out in five, call an ambulance.’
She gave him the once-over again. ‘You look like you’ll do fine.’
He left Jodie on the footpath. It was well lit, there was no one else out there and she was in front of one of the pub’s big windows. If Anderson made another appearance, Matt was guessing she’d make enough of a fuss to catch someone’s attention. He smiled to himself. She’d probably deck him.
Her three friends had joined the crowd watching the darts, the tall blonde perched on a bar stool. As he approached, he saw his dad shaping up to the board. He looked good tonight. Not so tired. It made Matt feel better about marking time in Bald Hill. He’d have to make a decision about his future sooner or later, and later was a lot easier to think about. Especially tonight, when his impulse to leap to the rescue was so pumped up. Jesus, he’d stared Kane Anderson down without a thought. Not that he would have left Jodie to it but he thought he’d put all that leap-to-the-rescue-without-a-second-thought shit behind him.
He tapped Louise on the shoulder. ‘I’ve brought the car around. Jodie’s outside.’
‘Thanks,’ she said and cheered with the crowd as Matt’s dad hit a bullseye.
When she didn’t make a move to go, he said, ‘I think she might need some company.’
Louise turned around then, concerned. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’
‘She got harassed out in the corridor. It got a little physical.’
‘Oh my God.’ Her eyes went to the window overlooking the footpath then she jabbed the other two women. ‘Come on. We’ve got to go.’
He swept the pub with his eyes while they collected their belongings. He couldn’t see either Anderson brother. They hadn’t left through the front door but then it wasn’t the only way out. He glanced out the window, saw Jodie standing at the kerb focused on something out of view down the street and decided her friends didn’t need him to escort them. He crossed the pub in long strides, pushed through the glass doors and out the main entrance. At the top of the steps, he looked right and left. She was still alone on the street.
She turned to him with a puzzled expression. Then Louise and the woman she’d come back to town with were hurrying down the steps, one of them carrying a coat, Jodie’s presumably.
‘Are you okay?’ Louise called. ‘Matt said you got in a fight.’
The tall one with the sprained ankle hobbled up beside him at the top of the steps.
‘Need a hand?’ he asked.
‘That would be lovely.’
As he helped her down, the other two crowded around Jodie. He could hear her saying, ‘No, really, I’m fine. It was just some drunk trying it on.’ Heard one of the others say, ‘Do you want me to drive?’ As he propped Corrine next to a parked car, Jodie’s voice lifted above the others.
‘I think that’s the ute that ran us off the road.’ She pointed across the street.
Both Louise and the other woman said, ‘Where?’
‘You saw it, Corrine,’ Jodie said. ‘That’s it, isn’t it?’
‘Mmm, I don’t know,’ Corrine said.
‘Did you get a rego number?’ Matt asked.
‘No, but that’s what it looked like.’
Matt cast his eyes in the direction of her arm. ‘Which one?’
‘The one with all the chrome.’
He frowned. ‘Which one?’
She looked crossly at him. ‘What do you mean?’ She pointed down the road again. ‘That one. Oh …’ She’d seen it. Almost every other vehicle on the street had a flat bed of some kind or another, with or without chrome. ‘The dark one with the chrome going across the back.’
‘Are you sure? There are a lot of utes like that out here.’
She closed her eyes for a second, as though trying to see it again. ‘Well …’
‘It could be,’ Corrine said.
Jodie turned to him. ‘It looked like that ute.’
He wondered what to tell her. Looking like a vehicle wasn’t the same as being that vehicle. And how well could she have seen it, coming towards her at high speed in the dark while she was taking defensive action? But, hey, he wasn’t investigating the incident. More than likely, she was just pissed off at the turn of events tonight and needed someone to blame. The only comfort he could offer, and for some reason he wanted to offer her some, was the idea that there might still be hope for closure. ‘The police station in Dungog is open tomorrow morning if you want to make a report.’
She looked a little embarrassed then, flicked her eyes across the road one more time.
‘We could go into Dungog tomorrow,’ Louise offered.
‘I’m not sure now. It looks like it but …’ Jodie shrugged, put an arm around Corrine’s waist.
‘Here, let me,’ Matt said, taking her other side.
‘Oh, you are a lovely man,’ Corrine cooed. He suppressed a smile, held onto her until Jodie opened the rear door and then lowered her inside.
Jodie slid in behind the wheel. As Matt leaned down to the window, she suddenly pushed the door open and lurched out again. Her cheek collided with his shoulder. He reached out to steady her and heard a sharp intake of breath as she recoiled as far as she could without dragging the door off its hinges. He raised an eyebrow, wondered if her personal space was always the size of a backyard pool.