The House On Jindalee Lane

by Jennie Jones

  Mrs Ormond coloured up quickly, then fiddled with the knot of her plastic rain hat, which was tied so tightly it gave her thin face three pinched chins. ‘I don’t like to talk out of turn. But since my husband’s dead, there was one gentleman, one time, who looked a lot like you, as it happens …’

  ‘Extraordinary,’ Tony said, leading her to the bench. ‘Good job I’m gay, eh?’

  Edie gulped back her disbelief. God bless his charm.

  She turned in a slow circle, watching as everyone worked. It was late afternoon now and they’d all be going home soon, tired from their endeavours.

  Nick and her father were close by, drinking bottles of cold water and seemingly taking a break. But they were not letting Edie out of their sight.

  The Tillman twins were handing out covered paper plates of food people could take home. Mrs Tam and three members of her library reading group had tackled the jasmine, which was looking a lot better now its wandering had been impeded. Ted was swaggering around, gavel tucked in his belt, checking on everyone.

  Edie’s heart expanded for her wilderness garden, for her house, and for her hometown. No wonder Olivia chose to stay. Olivia had made this discovery about what she wanted and who she really was long before Edie, and even though she always proclaimed to be jealous of Edie’s bravery at leaving, it was Olivia who was the brave one.

  The part of Millicent Gray wandered into her mind … Then the purr of a four-wheel drive punctured her thoughts.

  She walked across the gravel driveway towards where Ryan had parked, then stopped.

  She wouldn’t tell him about Whitcombe or the play. She probably wouldn’t take the role anyway. She might have just decided to give up the theatre and stay in Swallow’s Fall.

  Ryan closed the driver’s door and smiled when he caught sight of her, then instantly checked over her shoulder. He’d be looking for her protection brigade. His features eased when it became apparent he’d seen Nick and Ethan, not far behind her.

  He gave her another smile. A smile meant only for her. A smile that told her instantly what he was thinking: that no matter how long a day it had been, and how much effort everyone had put into their tasks, he couldn’t wait for them to be alone.

  Edie better not get tangled in that sexy smile. If she was to offer him her heart, she’d need to make sure she was able and willing to give him her everything. Her love, her hand, and the understanding that whatever decision they both came to about sharing the rest of their lives and what they’d do, she’d be content.

  She walked towards Ryan. If she gave up her career she had to know that it’s what she truly wanted, and not just an act of love because she thought it might be better for Ryan. She’d need to commit herself wholly and fully and she couldn’t make such a life-changing important decision if she were so close to him. Neither did she want to put him in a difficult position of wondering if he could help, or how he could advise her. It certainly wouldn’t be fair on him if she made him think one thing then changed her mind and took the part of Millicent Gray.

  ‘Ryan,’ she said as she came up to him, stopping him from taking her in his arms, and keeping her expression unmistakably resolute. ‘I need some time out.’

  24

  The Interval

  Ryan sat at the stage manager’s prompt desk with his laptop, scrolling through country properties for sale in the Northern Territory, but the weather there and in Queensland, where he’d begun his search, was too hot for what he needed. He’d started his search in New South Wales, but that would be too close to Edie. Even Victoria was too close.

  He sipped his coffee, taking five while Edie explained the sound and lighting board to his niece and nephew. She was in his vision, and Ethan was there, watching the goings-on.

  He studied her for a moment. Why did she want time out? It had been five days now. Sure, she had a lot on her mind, but he hadn’t forced her into this relationship. Teased her into it, maybe, and he had been what he considered a bit romantic with her, but that hadn’t been a ploy. It was the way she made him behave and feel—a total romantic. He’d even worn a bracelet, for Christ’s sake.

  She hadn’t kicked him out of her bedroom—yet. They were sleeping together, sleeping being the operative activity. Which was fine. He understood. He was content to sleep next to her, just holding her. Not that he’d slept much in the last few days. Cameron had been around each night, out of sight but keeping a watch on the house and the barn. Edie didn’t know this and Ryan wasn’t going to tell her. Vince had set himself up in the hut on Josh’s land and had reported that he’d got to know Simon, but the guy had been working a lot and Vince hadn’t been able to take the communication much further.

  Why the hell would a farrier—good at his job, according to Josh—be snooping on Edie? Ryan agreed with Nick; he was wary of Simon but didn’t get the impression the man was ruthless, like Hanger was supposed to be. Simon had missed a couple of rehearsals this last week, or been late, due to his work. Had he gone quiet? Had he made his plans and was now retreating? Vince had followed Simon to most of the farrier jobs, except for when he’d driven to Sydney for a little undercover work regarding Buchanan, but Josh had kept as good an eye on Simon as he was able to.

  Edie tossed her hair over her shoulder as she spoke to the twins, and Ryan found a sad smile. It had been the look in her eyes when she’d said she wanted time out that had warned him there was more to come. Something told him she was stepping away. He could only imagine it was her career that called. She liked him, she might even love him, or be falling in love with him but was it enough to keep them together, side by side? Those mixed-messages when they told each other how much they loved sex. He’d told her twice now that he loved her. Admittedly, the first time he’d said I love you she’d been almost asleep, and the second time, she’d been struggling to get her jumper off and his eyes had been focused on her breasts and his mind on what was about to happen. She might not have heard either time.

  He remembered what she’d said the night they lay on the old sofa. ‘I don’t know who I really am yet or what I want to do with the rest of my life.’

  He’d told her she talked too much, and had kissed her. But maybe he ought to have branded some of her words on his brain. ‘There’ll never be anyone like you, Ryan.’ It had the ring of finality to it. As though she might have known even then, that what they’d done would never meet par with what she had to do.

  He turned his attention back to his laptop. Much as he was loath to, he needed to start his search. A search for his future. Just in case he had reason to deploy elsewhere, fast. He’d rather take his broken heart with him than have it hung out to dry on the line of interference and gossip that was strung across Main Street. His sister, for one, would never let up.

  ‘Ryan.’

  He looked up and lowered the lid of his laptop. ‘Ethan.’ He checked over Ethan’s shoulder, but Edie was still in his sight. Out of earshot though, if they kept their voices down, and Ryan had no doubt why Ethan was backstage.

  ‘Buchanan,’ Ethan said.

  Ryan nodded and indicated Ethan take a seat on the stool on the other side of the prompt desk.

  ‘Do you have anything new on him?’ Ethan asked.

  ‘Strike Productions have issued a statement saying that although control of the company is in his wife’s hands, she and Buchanan have struck a deal whereby he can continue his management of the company so long as he discusses all proposals with his wife first.’ Buchanan would hate that—which made Ryan smile, albeit dryly.

  ‘The press are calling Edie day and night,’ Ethan said. ‘Does she want to make a statement?’

  Ethan was asking his advice as though he felt Ryan might have a clue what was going through Edie’s mind. ‘I’ve told her not to answer her phone. There’s no need to make any statement at this time.’

  Ethan nodded. ‘That’s what I think.’

  But would she listen to either man? Or had she already got some plan tucked away in her own mind?


  Ethan shifted on the stool. ‘I’m not interfering, but is everything all right between you and Edie?’

  Ryan wasn’t sure how much he wanted to talk about that.

  ‘There’s something different about you both these last few days,’ Ethan said. ‘You’re avoiding each other.’

  ‘You know my feelings for her, Ethan. I won’t stand in her way.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘Anything she chooses.’ Ryan wasn’t going to discuss his innermost feelings—all that emotional stuff—with anyone. Not her father, not Gem, not anyone. But he leaned forwards on the table, wanting to assure the father of the woman he loved that she was as safe as anybody could make her, notwithstanding locking her up and guarding the room with armed men. ‘Ethan, there’s nothing to say Edie is in danger. We’ve found nothing on Hanger’s whereabouts. There’s nothing to suggest Simon isn’t just a farrier with a penchant for stealing saddles and bridles.’

  ‘But we’re all still on alert,’ Ethan said, and Ryan didn’t have to answer. He’d stay prepared, as would Ethan, until this was over.

  ‘I’ve got her,’ he told Ethan. ‘I promise you, I’ve got her.’

  ‘Day and night?’ Ethan asked, putting emphasis on night.

  The man was perceptive. ‘I’m not sure what Edie wants, Ethan. But like I said, I’ll protect her with my life, and if she needs to move on from whatever …’ He let the sentence hang in the air. ‘Then I won’t stand in her way.’

  Ethan stood, a grin forming, and he wasn’t the type of man to grin. His smiles, when they came, were carefully measured. ‘A few relationship teething problems?’ he asked.

  Ryan nodded. What else could he do?

  ‘I think I understand the lay of the land.’

  Ryan didn’t express his wish that he could understand it too.

  As Ethan left the backstage area, Ryan’s mobile buzzed with a message.

  Are you insane? Gemma had texted.

  If I am, he responded, I blame you, since you interfered so much in my youth.

  Local rag just arrived—says you’re out to kill Buchanan.

  I might do that—and you can quote me.

  Local rag also says he’s coming to town.

  That gave cause for thought. He and Vince had a hand in what the newspapers had discovered and were reporting on. After Vince spoke to the guy who’d had a fling with Damien, they’d unearthed more photographs. By unlawful means. Vince had broken into one of Buchanan’s lawyers’ rental apartments, then found his way into a safe—Vince was a handy guy to know. The photographs had been there, the full versions and the edited ones. Plus a flash drive with all the digital copies.

  Vince had left the apartment as quietly as he’d entered it, but he left the safe open and he’d taken the flash drive.

  Buchanan would know someone was onto him, but not who.

  He won’t come here, he texted Gem.

  The whole reason Buchanan was now backtracking and seemingly playing nice with his wife, and with the press, was because he was running scared, and his lawyers would be trying to cover everyone’s tracks.

  Ryan had no intention of harming Buchanan physically, but the press would harm his reputation and that was good enough for Ryan. By chance, the media had got hold of a couple of the photos. Chance being that Vince had cropped them once more, so no-one knew who was in them, but he’d put a sting in Buchanan’s tail by digitally inserting the text: ‘Buchanan’s doing. Do you really know this man?’

  He’d dropped them off at the house of a senior editor at the Sydney Morning Herald. She would have woken up the next morning and found them on her dining-room table.

  Great guy to know, Vince, when you needed to break into somebody’s house, office or safe.

  So the police were involved now too, without Ryan having to alert them to anything, but they were focused on Buchanan. The only photographs the police had were those Vince had cropped. Nobody would be able to ascertain who the people were in those photographs, only that Buchanan might have been taking incriminating images without the person’s knowledge and with intent to blackmail.

  Would Buchanan call off Hanger, or Simon, or whoever it was he’d set on Edie?

  Ryan left the prompt desk when the twins’ raised voices and laughter interrupted his thoughts, and walked out into the auditorium area where he saw Edie heading backstage.

  ‘The twins are fantastic,’ she said with a small smile. ‘We’re ready for the cue sheet.’

  ‘It’s on the prompt desk. I’ll get it.’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ she insisted, and walked around him.

  He stopped her by taking her arm. Until he knew for sure what was going on in that crazy, beautiful head of hers, he’d keep all lines of communication open. ‘You okay?’

  She looked up at him and nodded.

  ‘Good.’ For good measure, he bent and kissed her on the mouth. ‘That’s just to let you know I’m still here,’ he said, and let her go.

  Edie riffled through the paperwork, stage manager’s scripts and notes, looking for the cue sheet. She had to move Ryan’s laptop since there was a pile of papers under it. The lid wasn’t fully closed.

  She’d never know why she lifted it. Instinct? Premonition?

  She wasn’t the type to snoop, she prided herself on being trustworthy, especially for her friends. But maybe she wanted to know what Ryan looked at on his laptop. Maybe she expected to see a list of names—men who might be killers out to find her. Maybe she expected to see the ABC online news …

  What she never expected was a search for houses for sale in the Northern Territory. She quickly scanned the site. The counter at the top of the page told her he’d selected five or six properties as favourites.

  Her mobile rang in the back pocket of her jeans. She pulled it out quickly, having forgotten to switch it to vibrate, and not wanting Ryan to come back and find her snooping on his laptop.

  She’d had so many calls and text messages from the press. How the hell had they got her number in the first place? If her agent had given it out willy-nilly, she’d kill him.

  She blinked at the screen, advising her that David Whitcombe was calling.

  Throughout each night, attempting to sleep while lying next to Ryan, she’d wondered if perhaps Tony had got it wrong about Whitcombe wanting her for his play because he hadn’t made contact—but here he was, phoning her!

  She couldn’t answer. What would she say—‘I have to think about it’?

  He’d laugh in her face, as would every actor she knew and plenty she didn’t know.

  She shoved the phone back in her pocket, closed the lid of Ryan’s laptop, and made her way to the front of house.

  She was numbed. Not by Whitcombe, but by the discovery that Ryan was searching for houses to buy for his retreat.

  She’d asked for time out so that she didn’t ruin their relationship—whatever it might be or become—and last night, in bed, had almost regretted it and made the move to put her arms around him, and maybe kiss him so they could share some intimate time and just stay together, like before. It had got gradually strained over the last few nights since she’d said she wanted a breather. They’d gone from holding each other as they fell asleep, to acknowledging each other by holding hands or tangling feet before they fell asleep, to being unsure and sleeping with their backs to each other.

  Now he was searching for properties to buy, thousands of kilometres from Swallow’s Fall. Talk about time out. This was looking like total extinction.

  The next morning Edie walked into the toy shop, an ache in her stomach. She wanted to talk to Olivia but couldn’t find her. She’d considered Viv, but didn’t want to put any more stress on her sister, and if she spoke to her their mother would somehow find out and want in on the discussion. So it had to be Gemma.

  It was early and there were no shoppers looking for toys or gifts. Ryan had driven her into town, but said he didn’t want to hear Gem prattle on about healing so he’d stayed outside
. He was waiting for Cameron to appear from Kookaburra’s.

  Edie and Ryan had slept in the same bed again last night. They hadn’t touched each other at all! It was like being in the middle of a silent argument with him. She’d spent the rest of the afternoon yesterday remembering all the conversations she’d planned to have with him one day. When all the mess was sorted out. When her mind had settled and she’d made her decision. She’d had hundreds of mental conversations about how she’d tell him she’d loved him all her life. He didn’t know that. He ought to know how her love had changed when she became an adult, and in a most tantalisingly different way these last few weeks.

  How could she ever have that conversation with him now when in a couple of weeks, when the play closed, he’d be leaving for the Northern Territory?

  ‘You do lead an interesting life,’ Gem said, without glancing up. She licked her fingertip and flicked a page of the newspaper she had spread on the counter. ‘According to our local rag: “Mr Buchanan has spoken to our intrepid journalists and advised he may visit Swallow’s Fall to talk with Miss Granger in person to see if there’s any way to settle this sordid affair.” And apparently your live-in lover is going to kill him.’ Gem glanced up.

  Edie burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, God, love.’ Gemma shot around the counter and held Edie in a hug. ‘It was a joke. I’m sorry.’ She took a breath as Edie cried into her shoulder. ‘Stupid of me.’

  ‘I’m just a bit overly fragile.’

  ‘Tell me all about it.’

  Edie debated, but Gem was her best chance because God knows where Olivia was. ‘I’ve backed Ryan into a corner and I didn’t mean to. He’s going to leave. I can’t tell him what I feel for him. I told him I wanted time out. He might have got offended. I never meant to offend him. Do you think he was always going to leave? Because—’