The House On Jindalee Lane

by Jennie Jones

  Raucous laughter filled the air as the fitness group moved into the hotel, no doubt for coffee and cake and more gossip.

  ‘Gorgeous, aren’t they?’ Tony said, looking over his shoulder at Olivia and Edie.

  ‘The redhead’s cute,’ Cam said.

  ‘I understand you’ve just returned from Iraq?’ Tony said.

  ‘Went for a holiday,’ Cameron said, deadpan, his focus still on the cute redhead.

  Ryan’s grin widened. Cam had been out there on a protection gig. Bodyguard to government officials. He said it was the most boring job he’d ever done.

  Ryan considered this. Cam wouldn’t settle in a day job any more than he would. His friend still had a taste for danger—more than either Ryan or Vince did these days. It had been different when they were serving because everyone had danger all around them twenty-four-seven. They lived with it. Since leaving the army Vince had found something he enjoyed doing, Ryan was heading for the future with his retreat idea. Cam? Looked like he’d be chasing a cute redhead for a while.

  ‘I’ll go do Edie duty,’ Cam said, and left them, walking across the street to take his turn at sticking by Edie’s side.

  Tony sighed contentedly as he and Ryan continued to view the pretty women up on the walkway.

  ‘Our glamour-girl is looking radiant, isn’t she?’

  Ryan agreed, with a nod.

  ‘Not surprised, mind you. What actress worth their weight would give up a part like this one?’

  ‘Which one?’ Ryan asked, flicking a glance at Tony.

  ‘The one.’

  He had no idea what Tony was referring to but a prickle of anxiety shot through his system.

  ‘Everyone in the biz is leprechaun green with envy,’ Tony said, looking like he couldn’t bottle up his delight. ‘Of course, it’s hush-hush, but everyone knows.’

  ‘I imagine they do.’ Everyone but Ryan.

  ‘This part will make her a star. You watch.’

  Ryan’s heart plummeted to his boots. What the hell had she done?

  He looked her way again. She was obviously keeping this news quiet, but even during a time out she could have said something. They did sleep in the same damned bed after all, even if they weren’t touching. She was relying on him too, and that’s what he wanted. To be her rock, or guiding force, or—hell, he just wanted to be her man.

  ‘It’s not Hollywood, of course,’ Tony said, ‘but still a huge deal. I doubt it’ll be long before she gets more TV and movie offers than she can handle. This part will escalate her career.’

  Ryan mulled this over. She was obviously planning on taking it and he wasn’t going to stop her, or even try to dissuade her. What bothered him was why the hell she hadn’t told him.

  Ryan was still in town two hours later, waiting for Edie.

  She’d spoken to all those involved in flat painting, front-of-house bar arrangements, and last minute costume alterations. He was with her and her family and her friends, many of them his friends too, and family—if he gave the notion any thought. He didn’t just mean his sister and her husband. He felt like part of Nick’s family, of Ethan’s even.

  But the fullness of everyone’s lives and the sense of belonging and the knowledge that he didn’t belong was only a fraction of the reason for his sullen mood.

  He was leaning against the bar, arms folded, keeping his eye on the front doors, the back entrance to the kitchens, the staircase to the rooms above, and on Edie. The beautiful woman with an already successful career that was undoubtedly about to take off internationally. The two tables her production team had taken over in the restaurant were strewn with coffee cups and near-empty plates of Olivia’s mum’s famous Danish pastries.

  The group began to disperse, Edie standing and packing her bag. She was smiling, then she caught Ryan’s eye and blushed. Even from this distance he saw the flush and the concern in her eyes.

  She removed her gaze from his and did the hair-fling thing.

  He tightened his abdomen muscles. Was that contempt? Or was it embarrassment that she hadn’t told Ryan—the man she’d been sleeping with—about her future plans?

  Sammy stood up from the table and when she saw Ryan she smiled and headed for him.

  He unfolded his arms and accepted her kiss on his cheek. ‘Everything go well?’ he asked.

  ‘Perfect,’ Sammy said. ‘Is everything all right with you?’

  Ryan grinned, removing any trace of frustration she might have noted in his expression. ‘I’m fine. And Edie’s safe, Sammy. I don’t think anything’s going to happen.’

  She nodded, her features relaxing in relief. ‘Thank you for everything you’re doing. You have my love forevermore.’

  Ryan pushed down the sentimental feeling of happiness, or satisfaction. Both were pretty useless emotions at the moment. What he wanted was Edie’s love forevermore, but what she wanted was her career.

  ‘So your daughter has a chance at major stardom.’ He kept his features neutral and his eyes on the room.

  Sammy put her finger to her mouth. ‘Sssh,’ she said. She hooked her arm through his. ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’ she said in a whisper.

  ‘It’s great.’ Ryan smiled, hoping it didn’t look as tight as it felt.

  Sammy glanced around the room until her eyes rested on Edie before moving to Viv, who was sitting in an armchair by the fire, her crutches leaned against the back of the chair. She’d been using them more than the wheelchair recently.

  ‘Both my daughters are superstars as far as I’m concerned,’ Sammy said. ‘They could do anything and I’d be equally proud of them.’

  Gemma headed for them, and as he didn’t want his observant sister to notice any tension, he said, ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ and walked over to the reception desk, which was between the restaurant and the bar.

  ‘Olivia, can I have a word?’

  She closed a large leather-bound book and gave him a frown. ‘If it’s about your stony-faced friend Crusher, just tell him I’m gay.’

  ‘It’s not that.’ He gave a nod, indicating the bar area, and moved.

  When he was sure no-one would overhear them, he said, ‘It’s about Edie and this theatre job.’

  ‘Oh!’ Olivia relaxed and grinned. ‘The writer-director guy has been calling her nonstop. Exciting or what?’

  ‘Isn’t it.’

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked, her grin fading as she focused more intently on him.

  ‘Nothing,’ Ryan said, now certain. Edie had spoken to those closest to her and hadn’t considered him at all.

  It hurt.

  Edie blinked away the pain and the shock at what Ryan had just told her, and turned from him, then spun around again. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘It’s best,’ he said in a low voice, with a non-committal look on his face. There was something hidden in his eyes, but it was hard to determine what it might be because they only had the lamp on in the kitchen and the fire had died down.

  ‘Okay.’ She couldn’t argue. She’d been the one to ask for time out. And he was right—they shouldn’t sleep in the same bed anymore. He was leaving anyway, so maybe this was his way of cutting ties. Backing off, slowly but surely. Maybe she was doing the same thing …

  ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa outside your room,’ he told her.

  She didn’t expect him to suddenly tell her he was leaving, but it frustrated her to know that he wasn’t going to. Although she’d been the one to push him away to begin with. But she’d done that for his sake more than hers. Was he planning to sneak off in the middle of the night after the play closed?

  ‘Are you finished in here?’ he asked, looking around the kitchen. Looking anywhere but at Edie. He’d hardly given her a glance since they arrived home from town earlier that afternoon.

  He moved to the hearth and put the fireguard in place.

  ‘I’m done,’ she said, picking up her cardigan and her mobile phone from the table and heading for the hallway.

  She used her bathroom upstai
rs, while he used his. Five minutes later, when she found Ryan draping the old sofa outside her room with sheets and blankets, she wished with all her heart she owned a thick, ankle-length dressing gown. The white silk one she was wearing felt see-through and way too short. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen everything beneath it, but with them doing this silent argument routine, she felt naked and vulnerable.

  Almost worse, he didn’t even look at her.

  ‘Goodnight,’ she said, and slipped into her bedroom, closing the door. That was weird too. She was closing the door between them.

  She picked up her mobile, went to the furthest corner of her room, and hit Call for David Whitcombe. The David Whitcombe. Man of the theatre. Playwright extraordinaire who wanted her …

  She would have to get over Ryan and the only way to suffocate the hurt was work. Hard, mentally and physically consuming work. She knew what that was. She understood what it meant to throw your all into an endeavour and stick with it through rough and smooth times.

  How many plays had she done? So many. Some wonderful, some not so good. Some engaging and others mediocre. But in all of them, in every performance, during those few seconds before walking on, not wholly in character because concentration was high, like a kite desperate to be let loose, and awareness and adrenaline pumped through her, many things flew through her mind. She heard the dialogue on stage, she was waiting for her cue—and every time, a split second before she entered from the wings, Ryan would be in her head. That’s the moment she knew she’d be okay.

  ‘David?’

  ‘Edie, how lovely to hear from you, no matter how late the hour. I was beginning to think you must have lost your voice. I hope you’ve got good news for me.’

  Edie took a breath, and focused. Her mind was made up. All she had to do now was say the words.

  26

  Opening Night

  Ryan was backstage, going through his checklist. This was it. Opening night. Lighting and sound were preset for the opening scene, Act I. His niece and nephew were at the back of the barn, eating sandwiches as if Gem hadn’t fed them for a fortnight. Gem had been roped in as stagehand—a job she was relishing because she got to wear headphones with a mic, and wear an all-black kit so she could help with the scene change during the interval.

  Josh was out the back too, with the horse. The horse had done well this last weekend. Nothing fazed it throughout the tech or the dress rehearsals. Not the lights, not the thunderclap in Act II, nor the music. Ryan thought Josh might actually be enjoying himself too, hanging around this theatrical lot. Surprisingly, this mainly amateur crew and cast were exceptionally professional. Edie and Tony took it all in their stride, of course.

  Ryan had a lot of admiration for the two of them. They worked damned hard and always had a smart quip or an offhand joke when times got tricky, or the hours dragged on as they reset lighting to start a scene all over again.

  Excitement abounded in the barn now, with curtain up so close. You could practically slice through it with a blade.

  Cameron was around, and he’d stay somewhere between backstage and front of house before, during and after the performance. Vince was doing the same.

  Ryan ran an eye over the props table, noting that everything was in place. The tea tray was set, cold tea in the teapot. The music sheets were in the opera singer’s knitting bag and the vinyl LPs she carried around with her were stacked in a pile. The horseshoes the simpleton groom had to show the detective were in a wooden crate with rope handles.

  He picked up the prop gun and gave it a once-over, depressing the trigger, which was the only working part. He’d given Ted a few tips on how a detective would handle a gun because Ted kept—

  ‘Ryan.’

  The soft voice made his heartbeat kick.

  He put the gun back down on the table and turned to Edie.

  His heart rate might be jumping, but the muscle itself was being squeezed at the sight of her. She was in costume. The play was set in the 1940s and she looked every inch the part of a Hollywood leading lady. Her auburn hair was set in loose waves to below her shoulders and her long fringe was swept back and held in place with a large diamanté clip. She wore a white chiffon blouse, which seemed to shimmer. The padded shoulders emphasised her natural, slim elegance and they were blazoned with gold and bronze embroidery that reflected in the cinnamon brown of her eyes.

  He’d never seen her look more like Rita Hayworth than tonight.

  ‘I guess you’re feeling part excited, part relieved.’ He hadn’t meant to open a general conversation, but his heart was bleeding that she hadn’t told him about the big, envy-inducing role. She’d want her play to work this week, but she must also be dying to get back to Sydney and start rehearsing for the real thing.

  She sighed. ‘I am feeling sad. There’s nothing like this, Ryan. This job.’

  He wouldn’t know, but if it was anything like what he’d experienced in the army, he understood. She’d given her all to it, as he had to the army.

  ‘It’ll be hard leaving all this behind me.’

  Ryan focused on her more intently. She’d said it in a near-whisper and she’d said it as though she were talking to herself. But what was she leaving behind? Regrets? He guessed she’d have a few of those. She was leaving Swallow’s Fall and her family and friends once again, to take up a great career. Leaving everybody behind, and casting him adrift.

  ‘What time do you want the cast to gather on stage?’ he asked, putting his attention on his job.

  She didn’t answer at first, then she smiled her pretend smile. The one she used when she didn’t want anyone to know what was bothering her. The fake one that told him she was in Edie Granger, actress-mode. He’d seen that smile so often this last month, he knew it for what it was the moment he spotted it. Others might see Edie the glamorous lady and theatre actor, but Ryan saw Edie the woman with indecision sitting on her shoulders.

  But she’d made her choice now, regardless of not telling him.

  ‘In five minutes, please,’ she said. ‘Before the doors open.’ Then she walked forwards, leaned up and kissed his cheek.

  A shockwave of sorrow and desire shot through him like a rush of flames.

  ‘Just so you know I’m still here,’ she said softly.

  That’s what he’d said to her over a week ago. So much for keeping a line of communication open during their ‘time out’. She was still here, but only for a fortnight or so.

  ‘I’d like to wish you all the best, Ryan.’

  Christ, she was going to kill him. ‘You too, Edie. All the best.’ That’s all he wanted for her, since he couldn’t have her as his partner in life, or his wife, or even just his girlfriend. He wanted everything wonderful for her. All the good stuff, all the comfort, all the joyfulness she could get. Everything. She deserved it all. And who the hell was he to wish she wanted all that with him?

  Telling him what she wished for him certainly cleared up one issue. She must know that her stage manager—the man she used to sleep with—knew about the big theatre role. Yet still, she couldn’t talk to him about it.

  ‘So I’ll get on with it then,’ he said, and heard the stony quality in his tone. He couldn’t help it. If he didn’t remain indifferent, he’d take her in his arms and keep her prisoner there until she promised she’d try to love him.

  She turned for the dressing room, looking a little lost or a bit hurt.

  He checked his props one more time, ticking them off against his list.

  If what was being said about Buchanan was true, this stand-off was over. The man wouldn’t dare put a foot out of line now.

  He was heading back to California to his wife and to stifle the many rumours and news articles still cropping up in the glitzy entertainment magazines. Ryan imagined there was a spark of pleasure in the man’s head. The publicity for Strike Productions was astonishing. He’d make use of it, somehow.

  Edie’s lawyer had spoken to Buchanan and his lawyers, and information had been carefully ask
ed for and just as carefully extracted about a man called Hanger and Buchanan’s possible involvement with such a person. Buchanan had said he’d once heard about the man but had never, and never would, contact a criminal for any reason whatsoever. Even the police didn’t know Hanger’s whereabouts and supposedly, a lot of what was known about him was total fabrication.

  Ryan and Cameron had gone through the bookings list. All the tickets had been sold to people from Swallow’s Fall township or the village, or their friends and extended family. Apart from those seats booked by the press—the local newspaper, the Sydney Morning Herald and even a contingent from ABC Television. But each name held against the ticket and seat number checked out. They were legit journalists or television producers and directors.

  Cameron said he was sticking around town for another week or so after the run. Vince, too, was staying, to make sure Gary behaved with Sonya, who’d started work at the stock feeders and seemingly shocked Gary to the core with not only her understanding of what was needed, but with her wiry strength and no-nonsense approach.

  So everyone around Swallow’s Fall was getting what they wanted, including entertainment and a little glamorous notoriety for the town and its families. Enough to have them remember this time for the next decade.

  Ryan would remember it for the rest of his life.

  Edie had asked her actors to gather on the stage so she could give them her opening-night director’s speech and offer her thanks and support.

  She loved these speeches from directors. It was a moment for the cast to reflect and focus, a thrilling few minutes where the excitement and nerves were derailed and properly channelled. It was almost a spiritual moment too.

  She checked her costume watch. She felt a bit nervous about having taken the protective bracelets off but there was no alternative. She kept a sigh to herself. They were waiting for Simon who’d lost his prop toolbelt. It was a leather one, and really old. It had belonged to Grandy Morelly, the town’s original patriarch. Edie’s father, who was generally considered the town’s current patriarch, had suggested Simon use it. It was how the detective discovered the gun and how the groom was at last uncovered as the killer. Ryan had a spare, but it was more modern, and it was annoying that Simon had forgotten where he’d placed Grandy’s toolbelt after yesterday’s dress rehearsal.