The House At the End of the Street

by Jennie Jones

  ‘Of course,’ Josh said, pulling the door wide. ‘Come in.’ He led them to the kitchen, the only room where he lit the fire. The only room, apart from the bedroom, he used. He clocked the photos he’d left on the table, but pulled out two chairs first. He’d swoop them up and out of the way in a second.

  ‘You were supposed to leave last Saturday,’ Ethan said, not bothering with the chair. ‘You’re still here, four days later, yet you haven’t been in to town. You haven’t been to see anyone. You haven’t called anyone—except the media. Got us wondering.’

  Low but brisk tone. Not something he’d heard from Ethan before now.

  ‘Sit down, Sammy.’ Josh tipped the chair he’d pulled out for her. Sammy smiled at him, and sat.

  ‘My wife’s had a crazy notion in her head since you returned to town,’ Ethan said. ‘We’ve discussed it, dismissed it, reconsidered it—and here we are about to hit you with it.’

  ‘You’ve decided to stay, haven’t you?’ Sammy asked, pulling the photographs Josh had printed off towards her. He reached across the table to gather them, but she spoke again as she lifted one. ‘Gem’s mural.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Josh withdrew his hand. ‘Took the photos a couple weeks ago. The mural’s pretty impressive.’

  ‘It’s stunning.’ Sammy held it up to show him, as if he didn’t know, as if he hadn’t been poring over it for four days. ‘Rutherford,’ she said. ‘You and Pat.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s painted you on the tree at last. Lovely work,’ Sammy said, glancing again at the photograph. ‘You know, she didn’t even have you on the tree until you came home.’

  Gem had painted him a compass after all, and the North Star. She’d drawn ripples beneath his insignia, representing waves. Waves that told anyone who cared to look at the Rutherford branch that he’d sailed away. ‘I don’t belong on the history.’

  ‘Of course you do.’

  ‘What we want to know,’ Ethan said, taking a seat at last, ‘is how many tree limbs you belong on.’

  Shit. Josh clutched the back of the chair in front of him.

  ‘It’s my belief you’re Ethan’s son,’ Sammy said at last.

  Ethan didn’t say anything, so neither did Josh.

  ‘And,’ Sammy continued, ‘I don’t think what I just said has shocked you.’

  ‘It has,’ Josh said, looking at her. ‘How did you …’ He couldn’t finish, in case he’d got this wrong.

  ‘How long have you known?’ Ethan asked, his voice tightened with some sort of control.

  Josh swallowed. ‘Ten days.’

  Ethan thumped the table. Sammy reached across and squeezed her husband’s hand.

  ‘You weren’t going to say anything?’ Ethan asked.

  Josh shook his head.

  ‘Why not?’ Sammy asked.

  ‘How did you know?’ he responded, incredulous. ‘You’re trying to say you guessed? I look in the mirror every day when I’m shaving, Sammy, and I never saw Ethan’s features in mine. Never.’ He looked at his—his father, and still couldn’t see it.

  ‘I saw you in him the moment you stepped out of your car the first day you visited us at Burra Burra Lane,’ Sammy said. ‘I hadn’t known before, when you were a young man. Ethan is blonde and blue-eyed, you’re dark-haired with brown eyes, like your mother, but you’re both tall and as strong as oxen. I hadn’t seen it in you back then because I was so into Ethan and my newfound life.

  ‘But now, you’re mature. You’re a whole man, Josh, and I saw Ethan in you immediately. The way you hold yourself, the set of your shoulders, the caring in your eyes … and I remembered something your mum said to me, years ago, while I was loving Ethan and too bothered then about him not loving me back to make any sense of what Pat had said.’

  ‘What?’ Josh asked.

  ‘She said, “Thank you for liking my Josh. It means a lot to me.”’

  ‘That’s it?’

  Sammy smiled. ‘Before that, she’d told me that Ethan loved me—although again, I didn’t understand at the time, and now, I think she knew that I’d be marrying the man she’d had a child with. The man who didn’t know because she’d kept it from him. And perhaps she was warning me that it was alright with her, in case this moment happened.’ Sammy pressed her finger to the table, pinning the minute and the setting in place.

  ‘I wasn’t going to say anything,’ Josh said.

  ‘It’s obvious to those who know and love both of you.’ She folded her arms on the table and waited.

  ‘How did you find out?’ Ethan asked.

  ‘I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘Let’s start with a drink.’ Sammy bent to her bag on the floor and pulled out the bottle of brandy she kept in her pantry for emergencies.

  Josh felt the first smile of the week form on his face.

  Sammy found glasses and poured three shots while Josh sat at the table, staring at the photographs. It was his turn. He pulled the letter out of a folder on the desk and handed it to Sammy and Ethan, sitting across from him. He sipped brandy while they read, Ethan holding the page so his wife could see it too.

  After a couple of minutes, Ethan folded it and put it back in the folder. He didn’t speak, didn’t look at Josh or Sammy. Then he lifted his brandy and drank, draining the shot.

  He cleared his throat and looked at Josh. ‘When Grandy told me he was my father, and not the murdering bastard who’d made my childhood and my mother’s life hell, I was … overwhelmed.’

  ‘That’s pretty much how I feel,’ Josh said. He indicated the folder. ‘You don’t seem … I mean, you don’t look …’

  ‘I didn’t know it, Josh. I hadn’t the first clue, like Grandy says in his letter. I pushed the idea away when Sammy first brought it up, but it fermented. I tried to remember what had happened. It was one night, Pat and I. We were seventeen years old. I left her to head to the city. Grandy had kicked me out of town, I was causing too much trouble.’

  ‘And?’

  Ethan stood. Sammy didn’t move.

  ‘I can’t think of a better man to bring into my family than you.’

  The fire crackled, the tap dripped and outside, a bird took off from the bushes. Josh stood, the chair legs scraping the stone floor.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t know,’ Ethan said. ‘I’m sorry your mother had such a difficult life, made no easier by my not knowing she was bringing up my child on her own.’

  ‘She had the community,’ Josh said. ‘She had help and she was loved.’

  ‘Josh. I can’t say that your mother and I would have stayed together, although I’d have tried to do my best for you and for her, but we were young. These things don’t work in the long run: young attraction; a baby; lost dreams. People get hurt. Hearts get crushed. But I want you to know this: I would never have not owned a place as your father. Never.’

  Josh tried to force the pride down, back into his gut, but it swirled in his chest. He was this man’s son.

  ‘Now.’ Ethan sat, and Josh saw him tremble. Six-five easy, built like a brick outhouse—the most generously spirited man Josh had ever known, was shaking. ‘We’ve got a lot of growing to do,’ he said to Josh. ‘A lot of catching up and a helluva lot of bonding to get through. I want you to know I’m looking forward to it. You don’t have to feel the same way.’

  He couldn’t speak. There were no words in his head. Nothing in his mouth except moisture. He might choke any second.

  ‘Josh.’

  He looked at Sammy.

  ‘You don’t have to plan everything,’ she said. ‘Sometimes you can let things happen … and you know, sailing a yacht across an ocean isn’t the only adventure life can throw at you.’

  ‘And your children?’ Josh asked. ‘You’d be alright with them knowing they have a half-brother?’

  Ethan looked like Josh had punched him in the face. ‘A true brother,’ he said.

  ‘One they can look up to and admire.’ Sammy took hold of Ethan’s hand a
nd held it tightly.

  Josh looked down at Sammy. ‘No wonder he loves you.’ She was accepting him and not only that, Josh felt she wasn’t going to give in until he accepted it too, and allowed people to care for him.

  ‘Now,’ Ethan said. ‘We figure you’re in love with Gem. True?’

  Josh grunted a laugh. ‘Spot on.’

  ‘And what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Don’t know. She won’t talk to me.’

  ‘That’s because you didn’t know your head was up your arse.’

  Sammy laughed; a full belly laugh.

  ‘You want to stay,’ Ethan said, ignoring his wife’s laughter, ‘for some reason you’ve discovered all by yourself—but you’ve been brooding over this.’ He gave the folder two short taps. ‘So we’d better figure out a way for you to get her back, because no child of mine is going to go through painful times on their own while I’ve got something to say about it.’

  ‘And that’s why I love him,’ Sammy said.

  Twenty-Three

  Gem sat at her dining room table staring at the letter in her hand.

  She re-read the paragraph that had seen a euphoric pride almost explode from her when she’d first read it.

  From the photographs of your art mural, sent to us by a representative from the town, Art & Its Lines magazine would like to send a photographer and a journalist to Swallow’s Fall for an interview with the possibility of a feature in our magazine. The Tree of Life, Hope and Truth you have created of your town not only reflects the history of Swallow’s Fall but also communicates the spirit of generosity of its inhabitants which we think will appeal to our readers. If you would like to call our office, we can discuss further arrangements. Should the article go ahead, there may be future opportunities to showcase your work. There would be a remuneration…

  Gem let the paper flutter from her hands to the table.

  Any additional money she earned would go straight back into her art. She had her heart set on the illustrated diary, and had already submitted the idea to a small press publisher Sammy had put her in touch with. She’d probably have to wait weeks or possibly months for a response but the excitement of continuing her art would keep her going.

  Hopefully, the all-time shit would go to prison, and it was the only place she wanted him to be: out of everybody’s way. He’d backed down and hollered like a coward when the police had got it all out of him.

  His assets had been seized, and it would take years to sort it all out. She didn’t know if her mum would ever see the return of the lottery money he’d stolen either, but she hoped so.

  Gregory was still going to be Gem’s guarantor for the loan with the bank. In three years, when she received her inheritance, she’d be able to pay off the entire loan. Tod was Gem’s and Ryan’s trustee now, as stipulated in the terms of Aunt Gert’s will should death or anything untoward befall the all-time shit. Gert’s lawyers had helped Tod understand his role. He’d offered to let Gem have some of her inheritance, which would be allowed for a good reason. She’d asked if she could have enough to pay Josh back the money that had been stolen from him. The twins had told Josh, and he’d said he didn’t want it, and that if it came his way, he’d give it to the town to go towards a sports stand.

  Gem didn’t think it likely Gert’s lawyers would allow Tod to release the money if Josh was going to give it away, but her mum and Gregory had donated an amount to the committee, as recompense for the money lost during the town hall renovation, and that was going towards the sports stand, although Ted said he’d be keeping a bit in the kitty for town emergencies.

  She folded the letter and replaced it in her orange Gem’s Toy Emporium folder. Had Ted been the town representative to send the photos to the art magazine? He must have been. He’d put new photos of the town up on the Swallow’s Fall website along with a photo of himself outside the stock feeders’, smiling broadly, with Grace at his side and the twins behind them, the McWade boys bringing up the rear. An entire family in one happy shot.

  She heard a rattling, rolling noise and recognised it as one of the showcase tables being wheeled across the wooden floor of the shop downstairs.

  ‘Okay, Mum?’ she called, looking over her shoulder at the stairs.

  ‘Fine!’ Mary called back. ‘Having the time of my life rearranging shelves. I love these teddies with the musical tummies.’

  ‘They’re cute, aren’t they?’

  Her mum had got on a flight from Perth as soon as she’d heard that her daughter was in trouble. Gregory was arriving tonight, so was Tod, and his new flame, but Gem had spent a special few days alone with her mum. She was so dedicated and loving with her advice, never telling Gem what she should be doing or thinking, but allowing her to just live through the lot: the heartbreak; the agony; the shock. Time, her mum had said. It just takes time.

  ‘I’m sorting space for your art cards, Gem,’ Mary shouted up the stairs. ‘I thought a revolving tower might look good, next to the counter, so people’s hands don’t have far to reach when they decide on a last-minute purchase.’

  Gem laughed. ‘Great!’ Her mum had loved playing shopkeeper this week, and it had given Gem the space she needed to get all the ugliness out of her mind, and keep track of the heartbreak she was going to have to get used to. All she had to do was get through tomorrow, then the next day, and the next.

  Except that Josh was still in town and she had no idea when he planned on leaving.

  She stood and walked to where her bridesmaid dress in its clear plastic protector hung from a picture hook on the wall, waiting for tomorrow—the only time in her life she’d walk down the aisle. She turned to the window. The mural might be a tree of love, truth and hope but these old panes of glass in a near-rotting frame in Gem’s flat would be the window on her future.

  She glanced down Main Street and saw Josh.

  Her heart seized. She hadn’t seen him since before she’d moved out of the farmhouse, even though he’d left messages on her phone and sent texts about wanting to meet with her. Wanting to talk to her. The twins had told her he’d be here for the wedding. She hoped he’d sit at the back of the hall, then she wouldn’t have to look at him as she walked down the aisle. Wouldn’t have to worry about visualising another scenario entirely. One where he was waiting for her …

  He glanced both ways before crossing Main Street. He looked up at her window.

  Gem shot behind the curtain. He probably hadn’t seen her. The winter sun was high in a cloudless blue sky; hopefully it had blinded him.

  She peeked behind the curtain to see where he was going.

  He was heading straight for the toy shop.

  She dashed to the top of the stairs. ‘I’m not here!’ she called down.

  ‘What?’ her mum asked.

  ‘Tell him I’m not here! Tell him I’ve gone to Darwin.’

  ‘Who are you talking—’

  Gem heard the shop bell tinkle.

  ‘My darling boy!’

  ‘Hello, Mary.’

  Oh, his voice; so rich. Gem could see his eyes too, shining, and his mouth in a smile. Damn it. Why hadn’t he just left? Shady, that’s what he was. Couldn’t be trusted to leave her to a broken heart without interfering by elongating the process.

  ‘Come here,’ Mary said. ‘Let me hug you.’

  Gem scrunched her eyes closed. She knew all too well what it was like being in Josh’s arms, even for a platonic hug. A person got surrounded by his protection and swamped by his strength.

  ‘You look like a man making plans,’ her mum said.

  ‘I’m winding everything up. Just about got it all covered.’

  ‘Last-minute hitches?’ Mary said.

  ‘You could say that.’ He paused. ‘I’ve come to see Gem.’

  ‘She’s gone to Darwin.’

  Gem held her breath.

  ‘Right,’ Josh said at last. ‘When she gets back, tell her … Tell her I’ll see her around.’

  Josh walked out of the to
y shop and inhaled. Beautiful morning. Great day. Shame Gem had gone to Darwin, now she’d miss him telling her he loved her.

  He chuckled, and headed down the walkway, resisting the urge to glance up at her flat window. Plan A hadn’t worked, she wouldn’t answer his telephone calls or his texts, so he’d given up and gone to Plan B. But, hell, she’d gone to Darwin. Looked like it was Plan C. Whatever that was.

  Mrs Tam beamed at him as she came out of the grocer’s.

  ‘Mrs Tam, how’s retirement?’

  ‘Not there yet, Josh. Everything has to go through legal channels. I’ve got to list the financials for the takeaway on a computer spread-thing and I have to put together something called goodwill assets.’

  Josh nodded. ‘Need a hand with all that?’

  ‘Oh, don’t you worry. Ted’s helping me. You’ve done enough.’

  ‘I haven’t done anything.’

  She lowered her voice. ‘You might not know about the terrible time I had with that Munroe man when I first tried to sell the petrol station, but it wasn’t nice.’

  ‘Haven’t got the first clue.’

  ‘It’s probably just as well. There are some mean-spirited people in this world, Josh. How did you manage to get all those reporters out of town? Not that they were all mean, but some of them were very pushy.’

  ‘I’ve promised them an interview. Small-town boy goes to sea, makes his fortune, returns a man and finds …’

  ‘Finds what?’

  ‘North.’

  ‘Well, whatever it is you’ve done, you’ve taken the heat off us, as they say on the television. Thank you.’

  ‘Least I could do. I told them I was the one they should be talking to. That I’d been the one to discover what Munroe had been doing to his family, and his townspeople. Said I had all the inside info they’d need to make a great story.’ Once he’d edited it to ensure nobody in town was made to look like country souls duped by a bastard, he’d be ensuring the journalists got a worthwhile story.

  ‘They wanted to stay and cover the wedding,’ Mrs Tam said. ‘They said it would help round-off the article. Bad man’s daughter loved by townspeople after all, kind of thing. Sounds a bit nosey to me.’