‘Because I need to ask you some questions first.’
Grandy sighed. ‘Now you’re pissing me off.’ He shifted. ‘Get on with it then, quit your dawdling.’
‘I need to talk about my father.’
Grandy straightened on the bench. ‘Well.’ He coughed. ‘More of an interesting day than I’d anticipated.’ He gripped his cane. ‘I was hoping to make you stay till 9 am or thereabouts. But rest assured, boy, we might be here till nightfall.’
Grandy was a careful eater. He chewed his breakfast sandwich with agonising slowness. Ethan’s was uneaten, still on the paper napkin at his side. He had an itchy feeling on his skin he didn’t like, but recognised as dread, like some phobia he’d been told to get over, sort out.
A car went by, but he didn’t look up. They’d been sitting on the bench under the veranda for half an hour and Ethan hadn’t posed any questions yet, didn’t know how he was going to open the conversation.
‘Would you look at that?’ Grandy said. ‘Worth getting up and about for.’
Julia’s car turned the bend by the B&B, heading for her home. She’d obviously come from the south of town. Darren’s place? Then he saw what Grandy was referring to.
A woman, smartly dressed, walked along the street towards the bus station. Not something they saw in Swallow’s Fall every day. He considered the possibility the woman had got lost, and immediately felt that a ridiculous idea. He scanned Main Street. Two trucks and a motorcycle at the petrol station. The blinds drawn on the windows of Kookaburra’s and the swing doors locked. Nothing stirring at the B&B, at the northern end of town.
There were no unfamiliar cars, broken down or otherwise. Everything looked as it should be. Perhaps the lady had been left behind from some business trip. He was uncomfortable about that notion too. He was uncomfortable all over. His skin prickled as though the outer waterproofing of his coat touched his flesh and stroked the phobia within.
He stood.
‘Certainly worth a closer look,’ Grandy said.
Ethan stepped down to the street. Any man would look, he told himself. Swallow’s Fall saw a lot of women pass through, many of them attractive, most in travel clothes and in holiday mode though. This woman had a purpose. She wore an almond-coloured hat with a straw brim. Her skirt and jacket were tailored and the boldest shade—like raspberries—the skirt sheathed above her knees. The jacket nipped at her waist, as though it was buttoned tight, but he couldn’t tell, she had her back to him. He glanced at her legs. Slim, the sheerness of her stockings reflecting like silk in the morning light. The berry-coloured high heels were enough to make a man wonder why women wore them. She stepped carefully, the heels and the bumpy path slowing her pace.
Sickness churned inside him. He heard the steady, low purr of the Eden to Canberra coach. He didn’t look over his shoulder, but he stepped back to the stairs as the bus rolled by and pulled in at the shelter, down by the B&B.
It would stop for a brief rest break for the passengers who had been on it since 7 am from down south. Then it would head for Canberra.
He took a step forwards.
The woman lifted a hand, a little hand, and tilted the jaunty hat on her head forwards, as though covering her eyes. Her hair was swept up and pushed into the hat. She looked down, reached into her holdall and pulled out a purse. The hair at the nape of her neck was rich, curling slightly. Even in the morning light, it suggested sunset and brown earth.
Ethan held his breath. There was an airport at Canberra and airlines that flew all over the world … and to Sydney.
His chest burned from the inside out. The woman had doe eyes and nutmeg freckles. If she turned around, he’d see them.
‘Sammy,’ he said. Then again, louder, ‘Sammy!’ She didn’t turn. ‘Sammy!’
He ran. His feet were firm on the road, but his vision swam a little. If she was going to the city that meant she was getting set to leave town. He struggled to comprehend the implication … and worse, the reason. ‘Sammy!’
The area was cordoned off with metal posts and railing. There was no-one but her waiting for the bus. Two passengers disembarked, but the woman in the raspberry suit with the hat tilted over her brow, stood to one side of the door as they got off, as though she couldn’t wait to get on.
‘Wait.’ Ethan put a hand to the railing that served as a barricade, and leapt over. He pulled up behind her, his breath hard in his chest. He wasn’t out of oxygen, he just didn’t know how to breathe, how to touch her. How to stop her.
She turned then, and he forgot about the city clothes and the exquisite display of elegance … and saw his Sammy. As fresh looking as every drop of spring rain that had ever fallen on the town. Her radiance sent a tremor through him. Her fruity scent was as familiar to him as his own skin. There was the softest shimmer on her cheeks, and her brown eyes were wide.
‘Don’t be scared,’ he said.
‘You don’t scare me, Ethan.’
The firm politeness in her voice pulled him up faster than a kick in the teeth. He felt himself ease down, back off … He didn’t want that. ‘Where are you going?’ he demanded.
She turned to step onto the bus.
‘Wait up.’ He put his hand out but didn’t touch her. ‘Think about it. Don’t do it.’
Her pupils dilated as she gazed back at him.
He touched her elbow. ‘Sammy, please, let me talk to you.’
She brushed him off, her shoulders set, eyes dark. ‘Go away, Ethan.’
He lifted a hand, knowing he couldn’t touch her again, but wanting to. ‘You look beautiful.’ Her face was bright and dewy, the three freckles on her nose covered in a thin powdery veil of make-up. The cool morning air gave her cheeks a pinkish tint. ‘You look absolutely beautiful.’ The shine came from inside her. He wanted to pull her against him and feel her warmth, inhale her scent. Just seeing her was a beautiful moment.
Her gaze sparked. ‘I told you I could dress up, that I had city clothes and another life.’ Then something softened the resoluteness in her gaze. ‘Please,’ she said. ‘Please go away.’
‘I’m not leaving until you tell me where you’re going.’
‘Sydney.’
To get herself an apartment? To get her job back? To see Dolan?
‘This is silliness now,’ he said. ‘You’re not thinking this through. Give it a day or two. Let’s talk.’
‘There’s nothing silly about me, and I’ve already given it nearly a week. Let me go now.’
He hadn’t known he’d taken hold of her. He stepped back, dropping his hand from her arm. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, apologising for not having visited her. She was telling him she’d waited for him to come to her.
She looked at him as though every distressing moment in her life had come at once. ‘I’m tired of hearing you apologise to me. Neither of us needs to apologise again.’ She shook her head, glanced away, then back to him. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’ The fragility in her voice broke his heart. ‘It’s over.’ She stepped onto the bus, sat on a seat away from him and angled her face down and to one side.
Sudden pain hit him everywhere. It scorched through his muscles and hit bone. He’d lost his chance, hadn’t taken much of a step towards making amends except those stupid messages he’d left on her telephone answering service. He hadn’t said anything in those messages, nothing that would make her stop and think for a moment. Like an idiot, he’d waited, much longer than he should have. He’d got it wrong. Every damn thing, every thought had been wrong.
He left the bus and headed for Morelly’s. He took the steps two at a time, and walked to the bench, pushing the sausages to the floor as he grabbed his keys from the seat.
‘What now?’ Grandy asked.
‘I’m going to Sydney.’
‘Messed it up, did you?’
Ethan threw him a warning look. He didn’t need to be reminded, by Grandy or anyone else in town about how much his deliberation had lost him his chance. ‘She’s got more trouble on her hands than what I did t
o her and I’m not going to let anyone hurt her.’
‘What are you talking about?’
The bus pulled out behind him. He didn’t look at it, but his heart flipped. ‘There’s a guy there who’s causing trouble for Sammy and her mother.’
‘And you think she’ll let you fix it?’
‘I don’t give a damn what she wants.’
‘Settle down, Ethan.’
‘Look.’ Ethan pointed a finger at Grandy. ‘Thanks for the effort you put in all these years, now back off. I’m not a kid anymore, I’m a grown man and I’ve found my own way. I’ve made mistakes—hell, I’m still making them—but they’re mine, okay? Not yours, not the town’s, not Sammy’s—mine.’ He snatched a breath, attempted to settle the anger seething inside him. ‘I’m going to Sydney and I’m going to get that woman back in my life if it kills me.’
‘You’re gonna crack a rib carrying on like this. And lower your voice or you’ll have more curtains twitching.’
‘I don’t care what any of you think. Bring it all up again if you want to. My mother, Robert, Carla—the whole damned story.’
‘That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re worried about whether or not you’re man enough to hold down the responsibilities of a wife and kids.’
The truth of that burned like fire behind his eyes. ‘Yes, that’s it. Got it in one. Feel better now?’ Fuck. He hadn’t answered the old man back like this since he’d been a kid. What was this mess doing to him?
He looked around. Mr and Mrs Capper stood with Mrs Tam and her husband across the street, all of them facing his way. Junior was at the doorway of the store, broom in hand, jaw dropped, and Mary Munroe was at the window of Cuddly Bear, the blind pulled back as she peered out.
‘And don’t bother doing it behind my back this time,’ Ethan yelled at them. ‘Face me. Ask me. Don’t dither around gossiping about my life—get your own!’
He turned for the steps. Best to get out of here now, before his frustration turned to bitterness and he made things worse.
Grandy banged his cane on the floor so hard the boards shook beneath Ethan’s boots. He stopped, narrowed his eyes as he turned.
‘Get back here,’ Grandy said.
Ethan took a step towards him. ‘What’s got you so fired up? What has any of this got to do with you?’
‘I like a good fight.’
‘Well this one’s my fight. And I’ll thank you to stay out of it.’
The old man stilled, peered at Ethan for a long time, then indicated the bench with a tilt of his head. ‘Sit down, Ethan. It’s time we had that talk about your father.’
Twenty
‘So you’ve made a big decision. Just like that.’ Kate Singleton dabbed a linen napkin to the corner of her mouth, ensuring minimum disturbance to her lipstick.
Sammy smiled warmly. It was good to smile again. Her friend was gorgeous, as always. Turned out in a dove-grey flannel suit and five inch heels the colour of wet charcoal.
Sammy put her fork into the bowl of salad in front of her. She’d had enough of picking at the lettuce and pushing the chicken around. ‘It wasn’t sudden, I knew what I would do.’ She paused, but couldn’t hold the next words back. ‘What sort of man leaves a woman ten seconds after making love to her?’
‘The sort that has a few problems he hasn’t faced before, I imagine,’ Kate said quietly. ‘He came back to you.’
‘But not to marry me. Not even to spend his life with me. I don’t need marriage but I want commitment. And children with him. He doesn’t want any of that.’
‘So you paced your house for nearly a week, but not because you were deliberating about what to do next. Not because you were waiting for him to come back to you. Not because you were too angry to consider what he might be going through or whether or not he was thinking about you. You had it all figured. So you just paced for no reason.’
Sammy pursed her mouth. ‘You’re too smart sometimes.’
Kate smiled.
A friendship demanded time and effort. Kate and Sammy had made the effort and forged their bond a long time ago. Sammy had taken the job in the fashion industry not only for her mother but because she was capable, had enjoyed the bustling atmosphere whilst having her own small, quiet space to perform her job. The reward she hadn’t expected was Kate. A lifelong friend. She didn’t have to question that. ‘I didn’t pace. I worked.’
‘And you’re not asking for my advice.’ Kate picked up her water, sipped. ‘I’m hurt,’ she added. ‘And a little surprised.’
Sammy shrugged. ‘I have a deep well of my own counsel now.’
‘You always did, but you didn’t think you were using it.’ Kate moistened her lips with a flick of her tongue. ‘You deserve happiness, Sammy. And you deserve love.’
The waiter came to their table and swept away their plates, bowls and water glasses.
‘It’ll be difficult,’ Kate said when the waiter left. ‘There’ll be a lot to organise, it can’t be done in a few days, perhaps not even a few weeks. You’ve put down very particular roots, even though you’ve only been there a short time.’
‘Eleven weeks and two days.’ Sammy cleared her throat. ‘I’ve made up my mind.’
Kate nodded. ‘And it looks like no-one will change it. Not even this big, idiot country vet who captured your heart behind my back.’
Sammy took her gaze to the clean white tablecloth, but couldn’t stop her mouth from twitching at Kate’s dry sense of humour. It was better away from Ethan. She could cope. This was the second time she’d smiled.
‘I have a good mind to visit that town you moved to and punch him,’ Kate added.
‘No need. For one thing he’s too big to knock over unless you’re in a tractor, and for another, I suppose he has his own hurts to contend with.’ She hadn’t expected either true love, or total freedom, but had been given the chance at each, and had lost both. ‘He doesn’t want my heart.’
‘Are you sure?’
Sammy looked up. ‘He doesn’t want it fulltime. Just for a while. And he isn’t going to get any of it.’
Kate’s expression turned serious. ‘And what are you going to do about Verity and Oliver?’
Goddamn! Five hours. Five hours of trying to keep his brain in line with the requirements of his job. Keeping his focus on the animal. Feeling silly about his outburst in town whilst calculating how many miles that bus had travelled with each push the cow had given. Pulling the calf’s legs so she could enter the world. Watching life begin while his own rolled away. Using his skill and his professionalism, the only damned things he had left to live for, because his heart was in Sydney by now.
Ethan stormed up the stairs to the walkway and marched to Morelly’s.
‘How’re the cows?’ Grandy asked.
‘Alive. Now can we please get back to the conversation we were supposed to have had five hours ago?’
‘I ate your fried egg sandwich.’
Ethan took a breath. No need to take it out on the old man again. Bad temper wasn’t going to help him get rational about what needed to be spoken of.
‘Shoved your sausages in the bin too. Didn’t think you’d want them.’
Ethan stared at him.
‘Had lunch. Now I’m looking forward to dinner. Thought I’d wait for you.’
‘She’s been in Sydney about an hour,’ Ethan said. ‘Let’s get this done, please, because I’m driving out of town in twenty minutes and I’m not coming back until I find her.’
‘You hurt when you think about Thomas, don’t you?’
Ethan startled. Hadn’t expected the conversation he’d asked for to open this way. But he was in it now. ‘My father never gave me a reason to feel otherwise.’
‘He was a rough one.’
Ethan sucked in a breath. ‘Thomas Granger was a bastard.’
Grandy twiddled his cane, turning it in his fingers and staring at the street. ‘Granger was your mother’s name, not his.’
Ethan frowned. This was
the first he’d heard of it. Had Grandy got his memories mixed up? ‘The name Ethan Granger is on my birth certificate and my father is listed as Thomas Granger.’
Grandy shrugged. ‘Linnie lied. Bureaucracy, she never could stand it. Damned paperwork nonsense. Got nothing to do with real life.’
‘Why would she lie? Her name was Linnie Jordan before she married. I had an aunt, my mother’s sister. She lived in Queensland where both Jordan girls were raised. She died a year after my mother.’
‘Linnie Jordan Granger. And she wasn’t married to him.’
Ethan stepped forwards, turned, and sat on the bench. So his parents hadn’t been married. There was satisfaction about that. It gave some distance. Lessened the connection between the bastard and his mother. His mother hadn’t spoken much about her life before Thomas, just her childhood and how happy she was with her sister, even though they were orphaned and in foster care after their parents died in a boating accident.
‘Thomas O’Donnell,’ Grandy said, breaking into his considerations. ‘Best looking man in town thirty six years ago. Didn’t like him from the moment I set eyes on him. Could be because he was twenty years younger than me and I didn’t like the feel of my muscles turning to puff candy.’
‘That’ll be the day, Grandy. I can see still muscle and strong sinew in you.’
‘I was like you when I was younger, you know. Hot-headed with pride, strong enough to ring any bell they put in front of me.’
‘Tell me about him.’ If this was the point to gain deeper understanding, Ethan didn’t want to play around. The memories he had would match those of Grandy’s. That his father had been a monster.
‘He arrived in town with your mother. Told us they were married—Mr and Mrs Granger. He left, sudden-like, when you were eight years old.’
‘He left, or ran,’ Ethan interrupted. ‘I didn’t know why. My mother told me he’d died in gaol. I thought she was lying. For years I waited for him to turn up. She told me the truth, before she died.’
Grandy snapped his head round. ‘Did she now?’
‘Told me he’d killed some woman in Sydney. In front of her kid, for God’s sake. Round about the time I was getting myself straightened out in the city. Before I married Carla.’
The House On Burra Burra Lane Page 21