by Janine Grey
‘I’m not exactly . . .’ Fin rubbed his neck.
Mick’s face broke into a grin. ‘So, that’s the way of it, is it? I heard she was back.’ He clapped Fin on the shoulder. ‘Thought she’d come for me and now you’re telling me you stole her right from under my nose.’
‘I doubt she’ll stay long.’
Mick sobered. ‘Well, she’s a nice lady. You take good care of her.’
He was right. Eliza was every inch a lady. Even with only a makeshift camp shower and a cracked mirror, she managed to start each day looking as though she’d stepped out of a high-priced salon. It wasn’t her hair or nails; it was an innate polish that she carried with her, far deeper than the stylish façade of his ex, Danielle.
Fin acknowledged for the first time how vulnerable they were at Ruin Flat. Hard hats and steel-capped boots were one thing but if yahoos were out to cause trouble, help was a long way away.
‘Just as well Pauly’s out of the game,’ Fin said.
‘Yeah, and he was cashed up before he left. Shouting the pub drinks like there was no tomorrow. He’s probably kicking back on a beach somewhere with one of them fancy cocktails in hand. And good luck to him!’
Mick laughed, waved and headed off in the opposite direction, leaving Fin with an itch between his shoulderblades and a vaguely unsettled feeling.
Not for the first time, he wondered how an old man who’d barely had two cents to rub together only months earlier could have turned his fortunes around so dramatically. What if he’d lucked in on a decent find and someone without scruples wanted to get his hands on it? It would explain the bruising. But if Pauly had dug something worthwhile out of his mine, why abandon it so abruptly?
Confounded, Fin drove the junk to the local tip, paid the fee and unloaded it on automatic pilot.
Back at the mine, he’d tossed the broken ladder onto the junk pile after all. As he unloaded it now, he took a closer look, turning it this way and that. The metal was so mangled, it was impossible to tell if it had been tampered with. The thing was decades old, it needed to be replaced – which was why he’d ordered a new one – and he’d been bloody exhausted the night of the accident. Fin admitted he hadn’t taken care to test each rung properly, either. It was an accident waiting to happen, not sabotage.
But still, there was little doubt in his mind that Blue’s death had not been one of natural causes. Someone had been at the camp while he was away.
Fin squinted into the sun before getting back into the ute. After MineCorp, he was seeing conspiracies everywhere. In any case, he needed to prise Eliza away from the camp. She’d drift off once the heat overshadowed what they had between them, he figured, but judging from the last two days that wasn’t going to happen for a while.
So he’d have to tell her to go. He’d been right all along. The mining camp was no place for a woman like Eliza Mayberry and his conversation with Mick simply confirmed that it was too risky. He headed towards the pub. She wouldn’t like it, he knew, but he wasn’t going to give her any choice. In every way, she didn’t belong out here and she would just have to accept it.
*
Eliza sat at the bar with her laptop in front of her and a glass of lemonade out of spilling range. She dashed out responses to the dozen or so emails that had come in over the previous days. A tingle in her stomach told her that the lead she’d pursued for two distant cousins of the late Mr Partridge, whose estate Charlotte’s husband was handling, was a hot one. Once she ran them to the ground, electronically speaking, she’d have all potential beneficiaries wrapped up from what she could make out.
The really good news was that Lincoln Bassett had two wills on his plate with missing beneficiaries and he needed her help. The not-so-good news was that they were a priority as the other claimants were making no bones about wanting their inheritance now. If she took the cases, she’d need to be connected to the world, which meant spending a fair bit of time in town. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Both she and Fin could probably do with space to process what had happened over the last sixty hours or so.
The instant that Fin arrived at the pub, she knew. All her senses went on alert as he strode through the doorway and took off his hat. As usual, he looked as though he had plenty on his mind – and none of it good – and she had an idea what to do about that. The thought made her body shudder slightly in delicious anticipation, and she was suddenly eager to get back to Ruin Flat for one last night.
Though the bar was starting to fill up, his eyes unerringly found hers. A few men in the pub could match him in height and lean muscularity, but none had his air of quiet determination or the proud bone structure handed down through generations of warrior forebears. Or the eyes, like a storm cloud over the Scottish Highlands.
‘I haven’t bought the boots yet,’ she told him, pointing at the laptop. ‘I need about another hour to finish up here. I’ll pick them up when we stock up on supplies.’
‘You won’t need the boots,’ he said abruptly.
Eliza swivelled on her bar stool until the inside of her leg brushed the outside of his. His jaw tensed. Despite his inscrutable expression, she was starting to be able to read Fingal McLeod, and guessed he was getting cold feet. She raised an eyebrow.
‘Is this a cunning plan to keep me barefoot or do you have another explanation?’
His eyes narrowed as the lunchtime crowd looked on in interest. ‘Let’s not have this conversation here.’
She picked up her laptop and followed him to the verandah.
‘Look,’ Fin said. ‘Some things have cropped up that mean it’s better for you to stay here.’
‘Is that right? What’s cropped up that you didn’t know about this morning?’
He seemed uncomfortable. ‘You’ll have to take my word for it.’
‘Take your word for what? You haven’t told me anything.’
‘It’s just the way it is.’ His jaw was a stubborn line and his eyes flashed with warning.
‘You mean your way.’
‘You’re a city girl. You don’t belong out there.’
Stung, Eliza folded her arms combatively, knowing that she wasn’t going to get around him as she had this morning. ‘You won’t think that when I take a swing at you.’
Fin stepped back just in case. ‘I don’t want to argue.’
‘Then you shouldn’t say things you know are going to fire me up.’ Eliza narrowed her eyes. ‘We both know that this is not about me. It’s about you.’
He shrugged.
Eliza wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. ‘Is this something to do with MineCorp – and a relationship that fell apart?’
His face turned as stony as the rocky outcrops surrounding the township. ‘What do you know about that?’
‘Nothing,’ she shot back at him. ‘Nothing except what someone mentioned in passing ages ago.’ She stabbed a finger at her laptop. ‘I didn’t even Google it because I wanted to respect your privacy and I thought you’d mention it in time if it was important.’
‘It’s not important.’ He tugged the ends of his hair, which she knew was a sign of frustration. ‘It was important, now it’s not.’
‘Just like that? You can turn things on and off just like that?’
‘Yes – No – Bloody hell. This has got nothing to do with you. It’s not personal!’
‘Of course it’s personal! If you just want space, say so. We could probably both do with some thinking time.’
His face closed down. ‘Good. Fine.’
‘Fin . . .’ Defeated for now, she said, ‘I’ll have to drive you back, in any case, and pick up my things.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll be at the ute in an hour if that gives you enough time.’
‘Is this what you want?’ She searched his face but everything was locked up tight.
‘It’s what I want.’
*
The relief they both felt when they reached camp was palpable. Not only had the air conditioning in the ute struggled to coun
ter the mid-afternoon heat, but the tension had been at tipping point.
Fin brooded as Eliza bustled around the camp, scooping up her towel, her toiletries and a few other odds and ends. She liked everything tidy and in its place, he’d noticed, so there wasn’t much. Even so, the camp suddenly looked a little desolate and less . . . Just less, somehow. He suspected that being on his own up here for days at a time would wear even harder on him now he knew what he was missing out on. And not just the sex.
‘Eliza,’ he started.
‘I suppose I should be happy you haven’t reverted to Miss Mayberry.’ She didn’t look at him.
‘I’m only doing this because I want you to be safe.’
‘Not knowing what you’re thinking doesn’t keep me safe,’ she told him, putting her bag into the ute. ‘It just keeps me in the dark.’
‘Will you go back to Sydney?’
She finally looked at him. ‘I don’t have anywhere else to go, Fin.’
Cursing himself for being every shade of fool and unsure how to make things right, Fin felt helpless to do anything as she got into the ute and carefully reversed.
‘Wait! Wait just a minute,’ he said, racing up to her vehicle before she could accelerate away.
He could see the hesitation in her face as she let the ute drift back for a second before braking. Walking up to her open window, he set a hand on the roof of the cab. It singed him, and he swore.
‘Look, MineCorp was ugly. If you want to Google it, you’ll find some salacious gossip in the mining press, I’m sure.’
‘I’d rather hear the truth from you.’
‘Okay.’ He sighed. ‘Long story short, I was a geologist at MineCorp and was dating one of the PR officers there. She was working with my boss – one of the senior execs – and she let slip that she was under instruction to “vanish” a controversial story: illegal payments were made to a state government minister to approve an environmentally sensitive coal-mining licence.’
‘I don’t remember hearing about it.’
‘You wouldn’t have.’ His laugh was raw. ‘I wanted to go public and Danielle reluctantly agreed. I was about to call a business journalist at the ABC, when I was hauled into a meeting with my supervisor and other MineCorp heavyweights. I was accused of planning to defame my boss as a career move. They said I was after his job. Danielle just stood there, saying nothing, but I could tell from her face that she’d run straight to our superiors. I think she panicked when she thought of everything she could be throwing away.
‘Anyway, I denied it, but Danielle had the only evidence I’d seen. So I guess she did vanish the real story by turning it into one about interpersonal rivalry instead of corruption.’
‘Oh God, Fin!’
‘They threatened defamation and, although I knew it had to be an empty threat because I hadn’t actually done anything, it was clear that my career at MineCorp was over. In fact, my career in any mining corporation was over because the word was out by then. Danielle always was a great networker.’
Fin had thought he was over it after all these months, but he could hear the tinge of bitterness in his voice.
‘What happened then?’ she asked, her eyes locked on his.
‘They offered me money to go quietly, which meant signing a non-disclosure agreement. I refused to sign and walked out with nothing except a more cynical attitude – and a good life lesson.’ He gave a wry laugh. ‘Danielle is the global communications director these days, so I hear.’
Her expression was sympathetic. ‘I’m so sorry, Fin.’
He brushed it aside. ‘It was more than a year ago, and it’s mostly water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned. I’m just telling you because you wanted to know.’
He could have told her a whole lot more, about how his ‘disgrace’ had come at the worst possible time – just as the extent of his mother’s decline was becoming apparent – but it had no bearing on the here and now, and that was something he needed to make crystal clear.
‘Fin, I’m not like Danielle.’
He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I didn’t say you were.’
‘But maybe you’re thinking it. And I know all about scandal —’
He raised a hand to cut her off. ‘It doesn’t matter. You wanted to know so I told you. But it doesn’t make any difference to the fact that I don’t want you here right now.’
As soon as he’d said the words, he wished he could retract them. She actually flinched, sucking in a breath as though he’d struck a body blow. But by then it was too late. ‘Eliza —’
She turned away, her expression turning cool and remote. ‘You’ll get your wish. Goodbye, Fin. I wish you luck in finding your opal.’
The ute was already in motion, rolling slowly down the track towards the road. He watched it until it disappeared into the haze.
Fin stared after her. He could have told her the truth, but what then? Sharing his conspiracy theories on top of the MineCorp disaster would have made him appear delusional. Worse, if she believed him, he knew she would have insisted on staying out here with him. Or that he stayed at Helton, at least at nights. Neither was feasible.
Sighing, he unpacked the groceries and stuck them in the solar-powered fridge. Maybe it was better this way – just a blistering three-night stand that they’d never forget, that in time they’d look back at with fond memories. And if it took a bit of pain to reach that state, well, he was used to it.
CHAPTER 10
The disbelief lasted for the first fifteen minutes of the trip back to Helton. After that, Eliza was just mad. She stomped on the brakes, bringing the ute to a skidding halt on the unsealed road, got out and slammed the door shut behind her. Hands on hips, she marched to the edge of the dried-up lake and yelled loud enough to startle a flock of birds.
Feeling marginally better for having let loose her real emotions – even if generations of disapproving Mayberrys were now frowning down at her from the great beyond – she got back in the ute and continued the drive to Helton.
What had just happened? One moment Fin was finally opening up, and the next he was shutting down again right before her face. Why would he bother to explain the MineCorp debacle if he never wanted to see her again? None of it made sense, but you couldn’t get clearer than I don’t want you here, which had come just when she was ready to reveal her own insight into his experience. Eliza had had the ground ripped out from under her by the scandal surrounding her father’s death.
It had been a ridiculous impulse to return in the first instance. Hers were wild dreams dressed up as a business conversation about the future of Ruin Flat. Well, she hadn’t had the latter, and as for the wild dreams – those she had lived for three short days and nights. Was it worth it? Only time would tell, but right now the sting of humiliation and anger made her wish she’d kept most of the state of New South Wales between her and Fingal McLeod.
Emotionally a little battered and bruised, she parked at the side of the pub and called to book a flight from Lightning Ridge to Sydney. The news on the other end of the line wasn’t good. Flights were full for most of the next week, which unless she was prepared for a long drive meant hanging around Helton or Lightning Ridge for several days when all she wanted was to lick her wounds somewhere far away.
Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her gear and walked around to the hotel entrance. Fate hadn’t finished messing with her yet.
‘No rooms,’ she repeated to Chris, in a dull voice.
Concern creased the woman’s brow. ‘I’m so sorry, love. If I’d known . . . But we had a couple of noodlers check in and that’s it. Full as a boot.’
Eliza couldn’t prevent her shoulders drooping as she turned to leave. It looked as if she’d be waiting for her flight in Lightning Ridge.
‘There’s Old Pauly’s place just gone up for rent,’ Chris called after her. ‘Far as I know, no one’s taken it yet. Why don’t you have a word with the real estate agent a coupla doors up?’
Just wanting a p
lace to be alone with her thoughts, Eliza found the agent and confirmed that Old Pauly’s place – official name Treloars Cottage – was available.
‘Just had it cleaned out,’ said the agent, a bustling, practical woman named Rae Turpin. ‘It was in a bit of a state before. Hardly surprising: the old fella’s been half-blind for months.’
‘I heard he’d had eye surgery. I hope everything went well.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Where did he go?’
‘He said it was time for him to move on. He was too old to be on his own, if you ask me, but he always was an independent sort.’ She gave a snort. ‘Come into money, someone said. You’d think he might’ve paid for someone to fix his place up before he left, though. Not my job to sort out other people’s messes. Anyway, it’s all hunky-dory now.’
‘I only need it for two nights, if that’s all right,’ Eliza said, feeling suddenly exhausted. ‘Just until my flight back to Sydney. I’m happy to cover the cost of cleaning when I go.’
‘Usually holiday rentals are a minimum of five nights but I’ll make an exception. The linen’s clean and the kitchen has all the basics. Just sing out if you need anything else.’
‘It’ll be fine.’ Eliza smiled as she pocketed the key.
‘You’re that Fingal McLeod’s girl, aren’t you?’ Rae asked, after showing Eliza the cottage’s location on the Helton map. ‘I’ve been hearing about you.’
Eliza struggled to fit the mask of composure over her features. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘I had some business with Mr McLeod, but that’s done and dusted now.’
It just didn’t feel like it was. But give it a few days and it would, she promised herself.
*
Jerry Bragg walked into the Treetops Community Care nursing home, feeling every minute of his sixty-one years.
‘How’s my girl today?’ he asked the woman on duty as he walked through the foyer towards Mairi’s room.
‘She had a smile for me when I took in her breakfast, Mr Bragg.’
‘Good to hear.’ He continued down the hall, shoes silent on the thick carpet, and pushed through the glass double doors that led to the east wing of the complex. Near the end of the corridor, he opened a door into a private room.