by Jennie Jones
No. He was doing the right thing. Leave ghosts where they belonged. Don’t mess anything else up. You’ve ruined Gem’s life because you won’t stay—can’t stay. He was leaving because he wanted adventure and one last shot at following the North Star. Even if he decided to stay and love Gemma, he couldn’t face Ethan every day and keep the secret. He couldn’t do that.
A series of thumps on the front door brought him out of the pain.
He left the bedroom, stomped down the hall and opened the front door. He put on a smile for the McWade boys.
‘Hi, what’s up?’
Eric McWade stepped into the hallway, followed by his brother, Derek. ‘Gem asked us to pick up her gear. She said it was inside her bedroom door.’
Josh’s gut got another stabbing. ‘No problem.’ He led them to the front bedroom and opened the door. Sure enough, there were her things, everything she’d taken from the flat when Josh had moved them into the farmhouse, all neatly boxed.
‘I’ll give you a hand.’ He picked up a suitcase while the boys took a box each. ‘I would have run this stuff into town myself,’ he said, then cracked a grin, although it hurt his face to do it, ‘except that she’s not talking to me.’
‘Mate,’ Eric said, ‘she told us you’d offered.’
She had? But he hadn’t, because he’d been keeping out of her way. He would have, though, she’d know that.
‘Said she’d thanked you and all,’ Derek, the quieter twin, said.
‘But given the situation …’ Eric finished.
‘Yeah. I’ll thank her for her kind words tonight,’ Josh said, taking the suitcase out to the twins’ van.
‘She’s not coming back tonight,’ Eric told him, and Josh’s heart hammered.
‘She’s staying with our twins,’ Derek said.
‘Said something about needing to be in town early since she’s helping Marie move into Mrs Tam’s flat and then opening the shop.’
Derek slammed the sliding door on the van, Gem’s belongings neatly stacked inside. He held his hand out to Josh. ‘Just want to thank you.’
‘What for?’ Josh asked, taking the man’s hand.
Eric slapped his shoulder. ‘For selling your place to Mrs Tam. She’s retiring now.’
‘I thought she wasn’t quite in a position to retire fully yet,’ Josh said.
‘She is now,’ Eric said. ‘Me and Derek are buying the takeaway.’
‘It’s going to be McWade’s Takeout.’
‘Right opposite McWade’s Mini-Mart, Boutique Grocer’s.’
Josh found the wherewithal to let his amusement out in a laugh. ‘Nice work, gentlemen. You’re taking over the town.’
Eric laughed. ‘Wait till we have kids. It’ll be McWade & Sons.’
‘Or Daughters,’ Derek chipped in.
‘I’m pleased for you, and for Jess and Jillian. Sorry I won’t be around for your wedding.’
‘There’s a place setting being held for you—’
‘—in case you change your mind.’
‘Thanks.’ He stepped back, keeping a smile on his face as the McWade boys got into their van and drove off. Good men. Good additions to the town. Swallow’s Fall was growing. It would be good to leave knowing that.
She’s not coming back. He turned for the door and a lonely night ahead.
She’s not coming back.
He wasn’t going to see her ever again. Jesus that hurt. He knew that this time when he left town, she wouldn’t be standing on the walkway watching him go.
She’s not coming back.
He stopped at the farmhouse door and put his hands on the lintel. He should grab his packed suitcases, hurl them into the boot of his hire car and leave town now.
‘It’s beautiful.’ Gem smiled down at the top of Jess’s and Jillian’s heads as she stood on the chair. She wiggled her hips and the poufy, dupion silk skirt shimmied.
‘Perfect length,’ Jillian said, and released the hem from her fingers.
‘Good legs, Gem,’ Jess said. ‘Just wait till they’re in a pair of four-inch sandals. You’re going to be a knock-out walking down the aisle.’
‘Rubbish,’ Gem said, taking Jillian’s hand and hopping off the chair. ‘Everyone’s eyes will be on the blushing brides.’
‘I won’t be blushing,’ Jillian said.
‘And I’ll be running down the aisle, not walking.’ Jess grinned.
‘How are your dresses coming along?’
‘Mum’s taken to locking up her sewing machine in case someone steals it—’
‘—in case she needs it for last-minute alterations.’
‘Take a look in the mirror, Gem. You look amazing.’
‘No, I’m fine. I can see from here,’ Gem said, looking down her strapless bodice to the big stiffened bow on her waist and the bell-skirt below. ‘It feels good, perfect fit.’ No need to look at herself wearing it in a full-on reflection. She didn’t want the picture in her head, it would torture her. It was going to be bad enough having to keep copies of the wedding photos. The only time in her life she’d wear a dress worthy of a walk down the aisle.
‘Are you sure people won’t think it funny that your bridesmaid is in ivory and you two are in periwinkle blue and pistachio green?’ she asked, stepping down from the chair.
‘We like to be different.’
‘And Mum wanted ivory silk somewhere in the wedding.’
‘So how was your first night back at the flat?’ Jess asked.
‘We half expected you to turn up at Kookaburra’s like a lonely lost soul.’
Gem had stayed Friday night with the twins and had moved into the shop again Saturday morning, keeping herself occupied with customers, sorting out the flat and getting her own feel back in the two rooms, although the cosiness Marie and Kenny had left still lingered. ‘I was tired. Spent all day sorting out new stock.’
‘Kept yourself very busy, didn’t you?’
‘Saw you washing the windows.’
‘Bet you scrubbed the floor too.’
Nobody had said anything about Josh. They’d kept their kindness and their pity to themselves, thank god.
‘You know he didn’t leave, don’t you?’
Gem spun so fast she tripped on her own feet.
‘Steady.’ Jess grabbed her arm to right her.
‘What do you mean?’ Gem asked in a whisper.
‘He hasn’t left. He’s still at the farmhouse.’
‘But it’s Sunday. He left yesterday.’ He’d had the grace not to drive through town, not that she’d seen—and she’d been keeping an eye out, just in case. Even though she hadn’t wanted that image in her head: Josh driving away from her for the last time.
Jess shrugged. ‘No idea what he’s doing. But he’s still here. I asked Eric to go check on the farmhouse last night. Just to see if it was all safe.’
‘In case Josh had left in such a rush he’d forgotten to lock up.’
‘Eric said the lights were on. He saw Josh through the kitchen window, and didn’t want to intrude, so he left.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Good job we kept his place setting,’ Jillian said, then turned to the window in the flat above the grocer’s. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
Gem followed the girls to the window. A line of five cars rolled up and parked opposite, by the stock feeders’ and in the alley to the sports field.
‘They’ve got cameras.’
People exited the cars, looking up and down the street, as though getting their bearings. Ted came out of the stock feeders’.
‘What are they looking for?’ Gem asked.
The group moved towards Ted—the only person on the street.
‘Good god,’ Jillian said as Ted was pushed backwards on the pavement. Two people took shots of him, one moving him so that he was next to the plastic horse and the Tillman’s Stock Feeders sign. Another guy jumped out of a van that had just pulled up, a TV camera in his hands.
‘Bloody hell!’ Jes
s said.
Ted was answering what looked like rapid-fire questions. He seemed to get himself together and started shaking his head, denying something. At one point he glanced up at the window where the girls stood, then took his eyes back to the crowd, pointing out of town.
‘The all-time shit,’ Jess said. ‘Something else must have happened.’
‘They’re going to want to talk to you too, Gem.’
Gem shot back from the window.
What else could have happened? The police were involved and had interviewed her father. They’d spoken to her mum and Gem had received a telephone call from some detective telling her to advise them if she intended leaving town, as they’d be interviewing her too. Ted had been questioned on the telephone, mostly about his dealings with the shire and the town hall. Josh had brought lawyers in and had suggested in one of the notes that Gem and her mother do the same. She hadn’t got around to that—there’d been too much else to handle.
‘Ted told me he’d had a call from a journalist,’ Gem said. ‘But we thought it would just be a small paragraph in the paper.’
‘Not any more.’
‘They must have charged him,’ Gem said. ‘He must have stolen from the shire after all. That would be big news. I have to get to the shop.’ She had to call her mum. She had to figure out how she was going to explain to the townspeople why there were so many reporters in town. It was all going to come out. Mrs Tam. Gem had to do something!
Three minutes later, dressed in black pants and pink sweatshirt, Gem paused at the foot of the stairs. ‘What’s all this?’ she called up to the twins. The back door to the alley was crammed, blocked with piled-up suitcases and moving crates. ‘That’s a fire hazard,’ she said, twirling in despair. How was she going to get to the back door of the toy shop now?
‘It’s only been stacked there one night!’ Jillian said.
‘The boys are coming today to move it to the houses we’ve rented on the estate.’
‘You can nip through the front,’ Jess said, pulling Gem towards the shop door.
Jillian was already there, unlocking it as quietly as possible. ‘They’re all with Dad, they won’t see you.’
‘They won’t know me, will they?’ Gem asked, zipping up her pink sweatshirt. ‘They don’t know what I look like.’
‘Here.’ Jess pulled a beanie out of a barrel of hats and lollies with a sign pasted across its rim: Buy a Kilo of Jelly Beans and Get a Free Beanie. She put it on Gem’s head. ‘Just in case.’
Gem pulled the tangerine-coloured wool down her forehead and ears. She took a deep breath. ‘Okay. When I get home I’ll call Mum. I’ll let you know straightaway if there’s any new information she knows that we don’t. I’m so sorry—’
‘Go,’ Jillian said, ‘while they’re still pestering Dad.’
‘Tell him I’m sorry—’
‘Go!’ Jess whispered.
Jillian opened the door slowly and Gem darted out. She stuck to the wall, stuffed her hands in her pockets and tried to make herself walk slowly. Three doors down. It wasn’t far.
The crowd left Ted and rushed over to Gem, blocking her way.
‘Miss Munroe, how are you feeling?’
She kept moving, eyes down, fumbling in her pocket for her keys.
‘Has this affected your business?’
‘Miss Munroe, could you stand in front of the toy shop for a photo?’
She got to the door, breathless, the sound of the journalists like an avalanche in her ears, deafening her.
‘Are you in contact with your father?’
‘Did you know about the bribe and that he was skimming from the shire?’
‘Has anyone threatened you?’
‘Excuse me,’ Gem muttered. Her fingers trembled as she got the keys out of her pocket.
‘Have the police got any evidence to suggest you were involved in the fraud?’
‘Excuse me.’
‘Are your neighbours speaking to you?’
‘Has this affected all businesses in town?’
She plunged the key into the lock. ‘Step back, please. Let me get inside. Please.’
The door opened. The bell tinkled above her head. She got inside, pressed her hands and her shoulder to the door and slammed it closed.
‘Will you give an exclusive?’
‘What’s this town called?’
‘Swallow’s Something.’
‘Fall. Swallow’s Fall.’
‘Miss Munroe.’ Someone banged on the toy shop door.
Gem didn’t wait to hear the next question. She ran to the stairs, took them two at a time. She scanned her living room and the kitchenette for her mobile. Where the hell had she thrown it?
Think. The noise on the street didn’t go away. She heard Ted’s voice calling out, asking them to leave her alone.
She leaned against the kitchen bench top and shut her eyes.
This was Swallow’s Fall for god’s sake. Shit like this didn’t happen!
Josh answered the call as soon he recognised the caller ID.
‘It’s madness!’ Ted said.
‘What’s happened?’
‘Good heavens, man, they’re everywhere.’
‘Who?’
‘The press. Journalists, TV cameras—they’re all on Main Street. We’ve been on the telly.’
Josh turned to his laptop and fired it up. He moved into the living room and switched on the old TV.
‘They want interviews with half the townspeople,’ Ted said. ‘They’ve got the wrong end of the stick about us.’
‘What are they saying?’
‘The general theme seems to be whether or not we’re going to run Gemma out of town or if she’s planning to leave due to the shame her family have brought on us. But they’re also asking if she knew about the fraud. If she was involved.’
Josh thumped the TV and the screen went blue, white, then blue again. He left it and headed back to the kitchen. ‘Give them my number,’ he told Ted. ‘Tell them I’ve got a story.’
‘What story?’
He didn’t know yet. ‘How’s Gemma? Where’s Gemma?’
‘She got herself inside the toy shop. They were all over her. They’re all the same, these city people. They think the essence of a small community is built on neighbour vying against neighbour—as though we don’t have lives to live! They don’t realise that Munroe was the exception to our community, not the rule.’
Josh let Ted talk while his mind spun. He had to get to Gem—or get help to her.
‘I’m thinking of turning the town hall into a blasted refuge!’ Ted said.
‘Ted—get them to call me. Say nothing. You’d best call the cops too.’
‘Done that. They’ll be here in three hours. Said it wasn’t an emergency.’
‘Talk to your lawyer—you did call that woman I gave you the number for?’
‘Of course I did. She knows everything. She’s going to represent me if I need it.’
‘There’ll be nothing bad happening, Ted. Not for you or for anyone in Swallow’s Fall.’ Not for Gem either, Josh would make sure of it. ‘Call your lawyer, she’ll tell you what to do and how to handle the press.’
‘Will do. The only good thing is they’re buying from us.’
Josh grinned. ‘Yeah, that’s some compensation.’
‘Why are you still here?’ Ted asked. ‘Thought you were leaving.’
‘I was.’
‘What changed your mind?’
‘I found north.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing. I’ll call you later.’ He hung up on Ted and sent Sammy a text. Josh couldn’t go into town for Gem, not while the media were still hanging around—he’d make it worse for her. He wasn’t sure she’d even see him. Sammy would go over. The foghorn on his phone sounded. He checked the message.
On my way. Sammy.
He grabbed the notebook, still on the kitchen table, sat, and made a list of the numbers he needed. Local newspapers; state newspape
r; local and state TV stations; local radio; his lawyers.
Twenty-Two
Gem, I need to talk to you. Are you OK?
Fine.
Gem, please.
Why didn’t you leave?
I’ll tell you when I talk to you.
My mum got here early.
That’s great. Gem I have things I want to tell you.
There’s no need. It’s old ground.
I NEED to talk to you.
Josh waited for her response. Nothing.
I’m staying! You’re going to have to talk to me.
Nothing. He slammed the phone onto the table, then bent quickly to catch it as it bounced off. ‘Shit.’
He hadn’t had a change of heart, so much as his heart had inflated like a buoy, taken a sail across three oceans in rough weather, and landed—no, been launched—onto shore. He’d found his north. The compass in his heart had led him and Gem had taught him. One small discovery, yet so powerful. No wonder he’d missed it. What had he been doing all these years if it wasn’t punching the world to right the wrongs he felt he’d been dealt?
He’d made his final decision. Everything that came next, he’d deal with, using his judgement and his experience. He had no intention of worrying the Grangers with the news that he was Ethan’s long-lost—perhaps never-known-about—son. He’d work through it and get through it, without hurting anyone else. He’d spent years knowing and respecting the man, he could hide the strange feelings going on inside him and continue to respect him in the same manner.
But how the hell was he going to get to see Gem so he could tell her his heart was hers? That it was from her that he’d learned the best lesson, that her artwork—a mural on a wall—had pointed him to the last decision he wanted to make: Gemma—his star, his diamond, his future.
Rapid thumps on the farmhouse door shook him out of those contemplations. Journalists? It was past their witching hour. Any left in town were probably in Kookaburra’s, propping up the bar.
He left the kitchen, turned into the hall and opened the front door.
‘Hi,’ Ethan said. ‘Can we come in?’
Josh took his eyes off Ethan and glanced at Sammy, standing at his side. Ethan’s gaze was still on him; he felt the burn. Sammy’s intent he wasn’t sure about. Concern, or pride?