Snowy Summer

by Patricia Weerakoon

  He reached across the table and let his fingers cover hers. She didn’t pull away.

  Her eyelids dropped, a shield over her emotion. Her smile carried hints of sadness and regret. ‘Roy, we can’t see each other. There are—are circumstances. I can’t have involvements in my life.’ She stopped, pulled her hand away from his and picked up the empty plates. She carried the plates to the sink.

  It was dark outside and Roy could see her reflection in the glass window over the sink. The look on her face pulled at Roy’s heartstrings. In a couple of strides he stood behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him. She didn’t resist.

  ‘Annie, what’s bothering you? Please talk to me.’

  She stiffened and pulled away. ‘What— what did you call me?’ Her eyes widened.

  ‘I—I called you—I called you Annie, didn’t I?’ He frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it. Annie is the name of the girl I met at a party recently.’

  He stopped. The journals with names removed. Her competence at surgery. Annie—she worked with Monica. He had assumed she was a nurse, and she hadn’t contradicted him. Monica was a consultant at Queen Elizabeth Hospital. Maybe Annie was too.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Sheva placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

  There was one way to find out.

  Roy pulled her close. Her body fitted into his, just as Annie’s had on that night.

  Just for a moment, she rested her cheek on his chest. It was a gesture of trust that reached in and squeezed Roy’s heart.

  ‘No! Stop, Roy.’

  ‘Sheva.’ He moved his lips over her forehead. Her body trembled in his arms. She was like an exotic tropical bird that wanted to be in his arms, but was held captive by some deep primal terror.

  ‘Please, Roy, don’t.’

  He covered her protest with his lips, and drew her sob into his mouth.

  The taste of her, the smell, the hint of a subtle floral perfume on her skin, surely, these were the lips that had responded to him at the masquerade ball. He slipped his hands down her body. This was the body in the silly red cat-woman suit. This was Annie.

  She was here in Jindabyne masquerading as Doctor Sheva Singh, and there was something happening in her life that terrified her. He had to find out what it was. Only then could he help her.

  She pushed him away. ‘Stop, this is all wrong.’

  ‘Sheva, what is the matter? Are you running away from something, or someone? You’re hiding here in Jindabyne, aren’t you? Who are you, Sheva?’

  She stepped back. ‘Roy, I have no idea what you are talking about, or who this Annie is.’ She walked to the front door and held it open, keeping her eyes averted from his. ‘I think you should leave now.’

  Roy followed her to the door and stood just inside. He cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. Her face was now controlled and devoid of all emotion. ‘I’ll leave now, Sheva, Annie, or whoever you are, but I will be back.’

  She stepped back and shut the front door behind him. He heard the lock click in place. She stood at the window and watched him walk to his car and get in.

  Starting the car, he drove away from Nuggets Crossing. Once he was well away from streetlights, on the shoulder of Kalkite Street, he switched off the car’s engine and turned the headlights off.

  Sheva’s cottage was clearly visible to him. Although, in the twilight, his black car would pass for just another one parked on the street.

  The curtains were closed, and the lights inside the cottage were on. He watched her silhouette as she picked up her phone, and paced across the lounge. In a few minutes, a silver SUV with the black and gold emblem of the National Parks and Wildlife Service drew up. Sheva opened the front door of her house.

  Roy’s stomach churned in anger and bitterness at the site of Sheva held in the protective circle of Dan Coopers arms. Switching on the engine, he slammed his foot on the accelerator. The wheels crunched on the gravel as the car skidded around.

  God help any wallaby, wombat or echidna who got in his way today.

  Chapter 23

  She had responded to Roy, just the way she had on the night of the masquerade ball. She knew Roy had recognised her by her reaction to his kiss. It had been bittersweet, both a revelation and a self-betrayal. She had always prided herself on her self-control and reserve. All it had taken was a meeting of lips to tear down her defences.

  ‘You think he recognised you?’ Dan’s arms tightened around her. ‘Calm down, girl, you’re shivering.’

  Dan assumed she was shivering with fear. Better he think that, than he know she had betrayed herself with a kiss: a sort of reverse Judas.

  ‘Sheva, what happened?’

  ‘He called me Annie. It’s strange, but he seemed surprised himself when he said it.’

  ‘You did tell him, how to Anglo men, all subcontinental girls look alike.’

  ‘No, it isn’t so simple,’ Sheva shook her head, ‘somehow, he saw through my—my persona as Sheva. I think he noticed my medical journals on the dining table. He’s smart. He would have recognised that the articles aren’t what a country GP would read. He also commented how my work on his arm was more surgical than that of a country doctor.’

  ‘Did he question you or threaten you in any way?’

  ‘No, more like—’

  The squeal of car wheels skidding on gravel rent the quiet of the Jindabyne night. Dan leapt to cover Sheva’s body with his. He shoved her back into the room and slammed the front door shut, his movements lightning fast as he snapped the double lock shut and flicked off the light.

  Grabbing Sheva’s hand, he dragged her to the kitchen and pushed her down on a chair. He stood between her and the kitchen window. The lace curtains on the kitchen window barely blocked the light outside, and the street lights shone through the drapes, reflecting a dull golden glow into the room. ‘Like a blasted shop display. I need to get thicker curtains installed on all these windows.’

  ‘Dan, is somebody watching me. Could Sunil or his partners have traced me? Could someone be stalking me?’

  ‘No, not without us knowing.’ He pulled out his phone. He paused with his finger poised over the dial. ‘Your clinic attendant, what’s his name?’

  ‘Peter.’

  ‘Have you got his number? He might have seen something’

  Sheva moved to the sitting room. She opened her bag and read out Peter’s number.

  ‘Peter, this is Dan Cooper.’ He smiled. ‘Yes, I am here across the road with Sheva. Did you see a car break all speed limits leaving here?’ He listened and chortled. ‘Thanks, good night.’

  ‘What the heck is so funny, Dan?’

  ‘Don’t get your knickers in a knot, Doc. Peter tells me he saw a Land Rover parked in the corner with lights off. He saw it when he returned from the pub. He looked out when he heard the skid and it was the Land Rover.’ He chuckled. ‘Your stalker is Roy Knight.’

  ‘Roy. But why would he—’

  ‘You threw him out, Sheva. He is hurt, bewildered and curious. He watched me drive up to your place and—’ he paused— ‘he saw you fall into my arms.’

  ‘You mean, he thinks you and I are together?’

  ‘He draws what, to him, is an obvious conclusion. I think the man is more than a little attracted to you.’

  ‘That’s nonsense. We met a few days ago.’

  ‘No, Sheva, you met before, and in your words, you were naughty. Did he give you any indication he is attracted to the new you?’ He stared into her eyes. ‘Be honest with me, Sheva, what happened today?’

  ‘He asked me to fly with him, in his private plane to Canberra for dinner.’ She paused, mortified at being forced to share her intimate secrets. ‘We—’ she shrugged. Best to brazen it out— ‘we kissed. It’s no big deal, really.�
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  ‘Sheva, you don’t have to feel guilty about this. You can’t be expected to live the life of a nun here. You are allowed to make some friends.’ He placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled. ‘Even boyfriends.’

  She shrugged his hands off and stepped back. ‘Come on, Dan. I am a professional, a woman who has led an independent life to the age of twenty-eight. I am not a helpless girl who needs a man to keep her happy.’

  Dan raised his hands in surrender. ‘Whoa, calm down, Sheva. You may not need him, but he could be useful.’

  ‘Useful? Not the protection thing again!’

  ‘Give me a minute, I need to make a call.’ He moved away from her and into the spare bedroom.

  Sheva went back to the kitchen and pulled out her medical journals from the drawer. She sat at the kitchen table, trying to concentrate on an article on recent technological advances in neuromuscular management of muscle spasms.

  She wondered how her relationship with Roy might have developed if they had met before she made a commitment in Sri Lanka. But, they had met just before she left for her marriage, and she had chosen to ignore his and her friends’ advice.

  She had chosen to trust Sunil. Her thoughts turned to Sri Lanka. She had been so wrong about Sunil. And yet, she still felt a tug of guilt at her betrayal of him. Whatever he was now, she remembered and cared for the friend and confidante he had been to her.

  A smile tugged at her lips at the thought of Dan. Her protector, guide and guardian. A good, strong and brave man. She had no doubt he would risk his life to save her. With his part Sri Lankan heritage, he was the kind of man she could care for. And she did.

  Three men. What a mess.

  ‘We have a plan.’ Lost in her thoughts, Sheva hadn’t noticed Dan return.

  ‘A plan for what?’

  ‘For your boyfriend.’

  ‘Roy is not—’

  Dan shrugged. ‘Forget the semantics, the man is obviously very attracted to you, maybe even in love with you—’

  ‘He’s not, and I don’t believe in romance—’

  ‘Okay, Doc, let’s assume he isn’t. He’s useful to us.’

  ‘Dan—’ Sheva got out of her chair to stand in front of him— ‘you’re not making sense.’

  ‘Let me explain. Roy is a man used to getting what he wants. Right now, he is attracted to you, and seeing you with me, thinking you may even be in love with me, will raise his competitive spirit. He’ll be in touch soon.’

  ‘Assuming he does— and I’m not as certain as you about that— what am I supposed to do?’

  ‘We’ve run in-depth searches on him. He seems okay on all counts, except for the fact that he is extremely reclusive when it comes to his farm. We want you to see him. I’ll have you covered. In fact, I’ll bring you a locator beacon—’ he glanced at her handbag— ‘and you can slip it into your handbag.’

  ‘I don’t like it. What am I supposed to do if he asks me if I am Annie?’

  ‘We need to let him know enough to make him an extra protective shield around you. I need to do a little more digging before I let him in.’

  Sheva gasped. ‘You want me to tell Roy the truth about Sunil and his activities? It’s humiliating. It’s horrible.’

  ‘An edited version. I’ll let you know when and how much.’

  ‘Until then, how am I supposed to behave if he contacts me?’

  ‘Accept his invitations and go out with him. Keep me informed where and when. I’d rather you don’t leave Jindabyne, so postpone the Canberra trip.’

  ‘It feels like I am using him.’

  ‘No.’ Dan took her hands in his. ‘Be Sheva, a trainee GP in a country town, happy to date an eligible bachelor.’

  She rolled her eyes.

  ‘Okay, just do it. Things are heating up, Sheva, we need as much cover as we can get. Go out with Roy and enjoy yourself. Pretend to be in love with him if necessary. It won’t be for too long. We—I will be with you all the way.’ He stopped and looked into her eyes.

  ‘I don’t like it, Dan. But, yes, I’ll do it, because it is the right thing to do.’

  She who so proudly pronounced that she didn’t believe in romance, had permission to allow herself to fall in love with Roy. Monica and Suzanne would fall over laughing.

  Chapter 24

  Roy dressed in the moonlight filtering through the curtains into his bedroom. Switching on the lights would wake Samson. He didn’t need his friend’s concern right now.

  He hadn’t slept well the last couple of nights. He was working on a new project. It would take some delicate negotiation, and would probably need a trip or two to Canberra, maybe even to Sydney. There was nothing unusual about that. Work issues usually didn’t keep him up at night.

  Seeing Sheva in Dan’s arms had unnerved him. ‘Back off you moron,’ he growled to himself. ‘You don’t need any more complications in your life.’

  A brisk walk across the paddocks at dawn would clear his mind, and allow him to focus on work.

  He grabbed his binoculars off the side table. ‘Here, Ares, Tyche,’ Roy summoned his dogs. They leapt off their baskets and followed him out. He strode away from the house. The gravel path meandered through the ancient eucalyptus trees, winding up the ridge.

  He climbed up and stood panting at the top.

  The paddocks and fenced enclosures were dark shadows spread out below him in the silvery black of the predawn mist. Distant gum trees stood proud and tall, sentinels of the Australian bush. A mob of kangaroos was feeding in a grassy flat beyond the farm.

  This was all his. He had a successful international business, a beautiful home in Vaucluse and this alpaca hobby farm in Jindabyne. There was no satisfaction for him personally in any of it. It was his father’s dream, not his. Edward Broughton-Knight had named the farm ‘Destiny’. It had turned out to be prophetic.

  He leant on the silver white bark of a eucalypt. The dogs whined and flopped at his feet.

  Night gave way to dawn. The chatter of multi-coloured parrots and a chorus of currawong heralded the sunrise. The sun peeped over the mountains, bleeding orange and pink over the grey clouds and slanting golden rays over the yellow box gums and acacia trees in the paddocks below him. Slim drooping grey-green leaves of gum trees twirled in the rising wind. Cloud shadows chased one another across the flanks of the mountains. It promised to be a bright and windy summer day in the Snowy Mountains.

  The first of the alpaca stepped out of the purpose-built heated shed into the grassy enclosure. The others soon followed. Roy raised his binoculars to his eyes. He loved watching the Suri alpaca pack, they were so placid and beautiful, with their white silken tassels hanging like dreadlocks straight down from the body, and long-lashed soulful eyes.

  A couple of the young ones, known as cria, chased each other across the enclosure. Occasionally springing up in what Roy had learned was called pronking, an alpaca expression of joie-de-vivre. Roy scanned the animals, now grazing on the grass and fresh hay in their feed troughs. There was no sign of the pregnant hembra Evita. She was due to drop any time now. He lowered his binoculars. He should get back and see what was happening with her.

  The phone in his back pocket began to vibrate.

  ‘Good Morning, Boss.’ It was Rodrigo, his farm manager. ‘Saw you up on the rise looking at our friends in the paddock. Thought I should update you. Evita popped her cria a couple of hours ago. Mum and bub are just fine.’

  Rodrigo was another of his father’s finds. A trained alpaca farmer recently migrated from Chile. He and his wife Maria had been grateful for the opportunity to use their skills and live in the pristine environment of the Snowy Mountains. Rodrigo was competent at his job as farm manager, and completely trustworthy.

  ‘It’s a girl, Roy. Want to come down and see her?’ Rodrigo asked. ‘This is your first baby. Choose a name on your way down.’


  His first baby. Would it be his only one?

  ‘I’ll be down in a few minutes, Rodrigo.’

  Roy jogged towards the farm house. Alpaca didn’t take well to dogs and he didn’t want to spook Evita. He would drop the dogs off first. The lights were on, and Samson stood at the front gate watching Roy and the dogs approach.

  ‘Sam?’

  Samson opened the gate to let the dogs in. ‘Don’t stress, Roy.’ He shut the gate after the dogs. ‘I saw you sneak out in the moonlight. Couldn’t sleep?’

  ‘Just one of those nights, mate.’ He pointed towards the Alpaca enclosure. ‘Evita dropped her cria last night. I’m off to check on her. Rodrigo wants me to name her.’

  Samson laughed and snapped his fingers at the dogs. ‘Go visit with your baby. I’ll see you have a good breakfast when you return.’

  Evita and her baby had joined the herd by the time Roy entered the enclosure. A couple of other alpaca stood close to the mother and baby. The stout macho, Domingo, who had sired the cria was standing closest. Evita greeted Rodrigo and Roy with a happy purring hum. Her black eyes gazed at them in contended pride. The cria, just hours old and already steady on her feet, burrowed into her mother, suckling.

  ‘Go on, Boss, stroke her. Let her bond with you.’ Rodrigo stepped aside to let Roy get close.

  Roy crouched by the animals, and placed his hand on the cria’s soft furry head. She stilled, then pulled away from her mother’s teats and turned her eyes to him. Roy looked into soft black eyes, fringed with long lashes; eyes that had only just seen the world and yet seemed to carry the wisdom of ages. She rubbed her head on Roy’s palm with a barely audible hum.

  Roy’s heart filled with protective love for this new life, the evidence of his father’s hope for the future. Keeping his hand on the cria’s head, he turned to Rodrigo.

  ‘Let’s name her Sheva.’

  ***

  He wanted Sheva in his life. They were both young and unattached. He sensed a loneliness in her. They would be good together, for as long as they were both here in Jindabyne. She had been spooked when he called her Annie. He hadn’t done it intentionally. But, the more he thought about it, Sheva and Annie blended to one in his mind.