No More Secrets No More Lies

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by Amos, Gina




  No More Secrets No More Lies

  by

  Gina Amos

  Copyright © 2011 Kara Group Pty Ltd

  Smashwords Edition

  Licence Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  *****

  No More Secrets No More Lies

  It was autumn, the season of change. The sun was shining but a distinct chill permeated the air. The deciduous trees put on a colourful display and the russet and mustard coloured leaves formed a backdrop to what was normally an average suburban street. Over time, the trees would be stripped bare, the streetscape would change and the leaves would clog the gutters and block the drains. They would become a nuisance, an inconvenience.

  Chapter One

  The walk home had seemed longer today, her throat was dry, her spirits low. Astrid, sauntered out from a crack in the laundry door and flaunted her tail in the air as she rubbed herself up against Rose’s leg. The old woman smiled, bent over and fondled the cat’s chin, scolding her softly as she reached up for the china teapot which sat on the shelf above the range-hood. The painted portrait of a young Elizabeth II etched upon the teapot had faded, her nose was missing and the gold trim around the handle had worn away. Rose shook her head as an acceptance that nothing lasts forever, threw a handful of tea leaves into the pot and lit the gas hob with a match. As she waited for the kettle to boil she realised that it had only been a week since Suellyn had told her that she was selling the house and the thought of that day haunted her still. It was a Tuesday; it was the day she had made the mistake of opening the door to her daughter-in-law. It had been raining...

  *****

  It was raining. Heavy, wet drops splashed against the verandah steps.

  ‘Oh, it’s only you, Suellyn,’ Rose said, as she stepped back from the screen door. ‘Come in out of the rain for goodness sake. I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon, especially on a day like today. You know I like to keep an eye on you, Rose, to see if you’re managing.’ Suellyn shook the rain from her umbrella, wiped her boots on the ‘welcome’ mat and followed Rose into the kitchen. She sat down at the kitchen table in an uncomfortable, high back chair and watched as she filled the kettle until it overflowed.

  ‘I know it’s here somewhere,’ she said, annoyed by her own absent-mindedness. Rose searched the cupboards for the caddy filled with Earl Grey tea, Suellyn looked around her at the state of the kitchen and wondered how Rose could live like this and wondered whether it bothered her.

  Ah, here it is,’ Rose said, as if she had just found something of great value. ‘You don’t mind if I have a cuppa do you dear?’ Suellyn didn't drink tea, she didn't like the bitter taste or the drawn out ritual that tea drinking involved. Rose reached into the biscuit barrel and carefully laid out four iced biscuits on a small, round plate.

  For the past two months, Suellyn Phillips had tried everything she could think of to persuade her mother-in-law to move from the house in Eden Street to a unit in a nearby retirement village. But Rose was determined to stay where she was. There was Astrid to consider and Rose knew her feline friend would not be welcome at the Bayside Retirement Village.

  Max Gray lived around the corner in Dalgetty Street and arrived on her doorstep at nine am sharp on the first day of every month, regular as clockwork, just as he had done for the past eight years. Despite his surname, Max was outgoing and friendly. The sweat-stained hat he wore to protect himself from the weather was too large for his head and a red V from too much time spent in the sun was visible from his opened necked shirt. His monthly visits were a welcome diversion to Rose’s lonely life and she looked forward to their conversations over a cup of tea before he headed out to work in her garden. Rose enjoyed listening to the descriptions of his family’s get-togethers, of twenty first birthday parties, weddings, christenings and his recent eightieth birthday celebration at the local bowling club, which she had been invited to, but did not attend.

  Suellyn stood by the kitchen sink and gazed out the grimy window. She was watching Max Gray as he emptied a bag of weeds into the compost bin and was thinking of how she would tell Rose. She would choose her words carefully she decided. She turned away from the window and poured the tea, added three heaped teaspoons of sugar and a slip of milk. It was just the way Rose liked it, hot and sweet. Rose lifted the cup from the saucer and placed it on the table. She poured a small measure of tea into the saucer and blew on it before she brought it to her lips and slurped. This annoyed her daughter-in-law and perhaps that’s why she did it.

  ‘I might as well tell you now,’ Suellyn said, as she picked up the teapot and refilled Rose’s cup. She waited a moment, looked at her mother-in-law and set down the teapot firmly on the tea stand. Rose raised her eyes and looked at Suellyn squarely, noticing the tightness of her daughter-in-law’s lips.

  ‘Rose,’ she said and paused again, hoping to gain her full attention. When she was sure she had it, she continued. ‘I've decided. I‘m not going to waste anymore time talking about it, I’m selling the house.’

  ‘Whose house Suellyn, dear?’ Rose asked, as she placed the saucer on the table and looked expectantly at Suellyn.

  ‘Why, this house of course.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’

  ‘I’m serious Rose. I’ve spoken to a real estate agent. Her name’s Ambah St John. Here’s her business card.’ Suellyn pushed the card across the table. Rose picked up the glossy, matchbox sized card and studied it. She couldn’t read the name on it; she needed her reading glasses for that.

  ‘Ambah works for the real estate agency in the village, the one next to the bank on the corner, near the traffic lights.’ Suellyn was speaking quickly now and Rose was having trouble following her. Suellyn was firing words at her like a Gatling gun, trying to get them out quickly, so she could say what she had to say and leave.

  ‘You might as well know I've put down a deposit on a unit at the retirement village. The one we’ve talked about. You'll be more comfortable there Rose, you know you will if you’re honest with yourself. Let’s face it - it has to be a damn sight better than all of this.’ Suellyn raised her arms and swung them around in a wide arc.

  Rose didn’t follow Suellyn’s gestures; instead, she poured more tea and placed both hands around the teacup to warm them. Rose suddenly felt cold and shuddered when she noticed a fine hairline crack which ran the length of the cup. Soft rose pink in colour, it was from her favourite set. It reminded her of another day, of a day long ago and of another conversation in a café in the city with her son, Billy. Overcome with sadness, regret and a sense of dread, she wondered why Suellyn wanted to sell the house.

  ‘Are you listening to me Rose? Do you understand what I am saying to you?’

  ‘I’m not deaf and I’m not stupid. This is my home and I’ve told you before, I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m happy living here and besides, what will happen to Astrid?’

  ‘Forget about the damn cat will you? Christ, you’re a stubborn woman Rose Phillips. Just remember, this house is in my name and if I want to sell it, I will. Anyway, it’s too late now, I’ve already made an appointment with Ambah. She said she’s going to drop by sometime next week to inspect the house. And Rose, I expect you to co-operate with her.’

  ‘Does Billy know about this?’ Rose asked. ‘Does he know that you want to throw me out onto
the street?’ She demanded to know if Billy knew what his wife was planning. Rose looked down at the muddied tea and the dark shadow of tea leaves which were sitting at the bottom of the teacup.

  ‘He’ll know soon enough and I’m not throwing you out onto the street. Haven’t you heard a single word I’ve said?’

  Rose raised her head slowly and looked at her daughter-in-law. ‘I heard you well enough Suellyn, and you might want to listen to me for once. The only way I’m leaving this house is in a pine box, so go tell that to Billy.’

  Suellyn stared at Rose’s determined face and expelled a long, loud sigh. Rose folded her arms across her hollow chest and stared back at her daughter-in-law. Nothing more was said, there was nothing more to say. Suellyn placed her hands on the table, leaned forward and looked into Rose’s watery eyes before turning away when she saw the cold determination in them. In defiance, Rose took a large bite from an iced biscuit and sipped her tea which was now tepid. Suellyn grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the house.

  The front door snapped shut. Rose studied her swollen fingers as she placed her cup back on the saucer and reflected, not for the first time, on her son’s taste in women. Grim-faced, Rose thought about what Suellyn had just said to her. She knew her daughter-in-law and knew what she was capable of. The next time they met, she would have the real estate agent with her. But Rose didn’t see Suellyn again and she never did discover the reason why she wanted her out of the house.

  Suellyn grabbed her umbrella and stepped off the verandah onto the brick path which led to the front gate. She turned and looked over her shoulder, towards the neighbour’s hedge which was covered in clouds of white flowers and purple berries. The clicking sound of garden clippers suddenly stopped. He was standing there, quietly watching her. The sweet smell of cut branches and scented flowers drifted towards her and she spotted Rose’s neighbour behind the collapsed timber fence. Suellyn tried to recall his name then turned her back on him and walked quickly out through the gate and towards her parked car.

  Chapter Two

  It wasn’t unusual for the traffic to be heavy on Military Road and today was no different from any other. Suellyn’s foot slipped on the accelerator and to compensate she braked hard, narrowly missing the car ahead. Her breathing was shallow and laboured. She clenched her teeth when she spotted the amber traffic light ahead. She didn’t care if the red light camera caught her, the loss of points on her licence and the fine didn’t bother her either, she just wanted to get home before she changed her mind.

  The light turned red before she made it through the intersection and a learner driver in a yellow Suzuki hatchback made an insane right hand turn in front of her into a one-way street. Suellyn punched heavily on the horn and changed lanes in time to avoid the Suzuki and changed back again to avoid hitting a delivery van parked in a loading zone.

  It was a slow drive home but eventually the familiar row of Manly Pines appeared ahead and marked the entrance to her apartment block. Suellyn sighed with relief as she flicked the indicator and drove down into the basement car park, braking hard at the vehicle barrier gate as she gripped the steering wheel and stared out through the windscreen, waiting for the mechanical arm to lift. The rubber tyres slipped and squealed on the polished concrete floor as she turned and parked in bay number sixteen. The car door slammed and echoed through the empty car park. Instead of taking the stairs to their eighth floor apartment, as she usually did, she pressed the button on the lift panel and waited for it to arrive.

  The Panorama was an eight storey residential building located at the southern end of Manly Beach. The Phillips’s apartment faced east and looked out across the ocean. There were two apartments to each floor and a French executive occupied the neighbouring apartment. He used it for entertaining clients when he was in town. Jean-Claude Broussard was in his forties and was fat and bald. His name was all that Suellyn had found attractive about him and the pair had got no further than their initial introductions after they had stood together one morning in the corridor, waiting for a lift to take them down to the basement car park.

  Suellyn quickly unlocked the apartment door and in her haste, she tripped on the thick Persian rug in the hallway. She hissed as she kicked off her heels and ran barefoot into the study. The room was dark and instinctively she grabbed the damask curtains and yanked them back. They parted and revealed a sparkling, million dollar view, but she wasn’t interested in the view today, she had more important things on her mind. Law books and files were littered on William’s desk. She pushed them aside, sat down in his chair and pulled herself up to the edge of the desk. She hit the computer keyboard and the iMac sprang back from a deep sleep, responding to her demands, sensing her impatience. The Internet quickly connected and Suellyn found the website she had been looking for - Energex’s six digit telephone enquiry number flashed onto the screen in front of her. She hammered the number into the phone and wedged the handset between her neck and shoulder. It seemed more like hours than minutes before the operator finally answered.

  ‘Yes, good morning. I want to disconnect the power at my rental property. It’s vacant, there’s nobody living there.’

  The operator recorded the details and asked Suellyn to hold. Meanwhile, Suellyn looked out through the window at the ocean which was calm and unruffled, exactly the opposite to the way she was feeling. A red and yellow Surf Rescue helicopter came into view and flew low over the coastline like some gigantic, flying wasp, flapping its wings above its head. The chopper was about one hundred metres from the shore and the sound of the deep thwap, thwap of the helicopter’s blades distracted her for a moment as she watched it bank sharply to the right and head back out to sea.

  The operator came back on the line, prompting Suellyn to uncross her shapely legs and sit upright.

  Yes, that’s right, 15 Eden Street. You can send the final invoice to my private post office box.’

  As Suellyn hung up, she felt strangely satisfied even though her stomach felt like a dozen butterflies were performing back flips. She was convinced that everyone would be better off and Rose would come to realise that it was in her best interests to move to the retirement village. Besides, Rose had no other choice did she? Suellyn was sure she would come to her senses and realise that she was deadly serious about selling the house.

  The thought suddenly crossed Suellyn’s mind that Rose might decide to stay in the house just to spite her and if that was the case, she wondered what else she could do to persuade her to leave. Other options came to mind, but the next thing on her list was to sack Max Gray, the gardener. He and Rose were far too cosy. If he found out that the power had been disconnected he might want to do something about it; he might want to help her in some way.

  It was stale and airless inside the apartment and as Suellyn slid open the glass doors, she began to relax with the sound of the waves and the briny smell of the ocean as it drifted across the terrace and into the apartment.

  The lounge-room opened out onto a spacious limestone terrace and the bank of white nylon curtains shivered and floated into the room like billowing sails. The movement of the curtains as they shifted about and licked at a potted indoor palm, helped to calm her nerves. She collapsed onto the white leather lounge and propped her head up against a cushion. She took a deep breath and a quiver of a smile broke out across her face as she rolled over onto her side.

  Her chestnut coloured hair fell in perfect waves against the nape of her neck. The cordless phone was within her reach and she grabbed at it and dialed Tommy Dwyer’s home phone number. He answered immediately as if he had been expecting her call.

  ‘I was wondering when you were going to call. What have you been up to? I can hear the excitement in your voice.’

  ‘You’ll be so proud of me Tommy. I’ve finally worked out a way of getting Rose to move out of the house.’

  ‘Well, go on then, tell me, don’t keep me in suspense.’ Tommy held the phone hard up against his ear and concentrated.

  �
�I’ve already spoken to a real estate agent. She said she can call around next week to inspect the house.’

  A large grin broke out across his lips; a dimple creased his left cheek. ‘I can’t wait for you to get here so you can tell me all about it. Make sure you drive carefully, you know you always drive too fast on the freeway and the road will be slippery after all the rain.’ Tommy put the phone down and returned to the article in the Medical Journal of Australia. He leant over and pushed down heavily on the stainless steel cafetière and poured himself another cup of strong coffee. It was lukewarm. He drained the cup, looked at his watch and calculated Suellyn would arrive after lunch. Tommy stood up from the lounge, stretched his arms above his head, yawned and threw the magazine into the fireplace. It slowly

  disappeared into the dying embers without a trace.

  Chapter Three

  The sun broke through the grey clouds as Suellyn drove into the busy petrol station on Dunbar Street. She filled the Porsche with enough petrol for the return trip and as she waited in line to pay, she checked her phone for messages. At the head of the queue she pulled out her credit card, gave the cashier a sour look and told him to charge her for the chocolate bar and a bottle of pomegranate juice she intended to grab on her way out.

  As she took the exit ramp onto the freeway, every nervous fibre in her body began to relax. She eased her head back onto the leather headrest and as the CD began to play, angry images of her mother-in-law slowly began to disappear. She had expected Rose to agree to move when she’d told her she’d already put down a deposit on the unit at the retirement village this morning. But Rose seemed more determined than ever to stay where she was and because of that, she was going to suffer. It served her right for being so stubborn she thought, as she settled back into the rhythm of the freeway.

 

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