by Mandy Magro
Charlize found herself a bit perplexed at Vivien’s response, but everyone dealt with bereavement differently so she shrugged it off. ‘Oh that’s terrible. I hope you find it, Vivien.’
‘Yes, me too. I was heartbroken when I noticed it gone—goodness knows where I could have dropped it.’ She smiled sadly. ‘But I have faith that God will return it to me if I’m meant to have it back.’ She shook her head as though recalling a memory from long ago. ‘Losing George was what made me turn to God—it’s my faith that got me through his death.’
Not knowing what to say to that, Charlize flicked the earrings she was wearing. ‘My dad gave me these ruby earrings for Christmas a few years ago.’
‘Oh, they are very lovely.’ Vivien clapped her hands together, making Charlize start a little. ‘Right, let’s get this show on the road, shall we? I have to be down the church to help out with a cleaning bee in a couple of hours, and I hate to be late.’ She took determined strides, talking over her shoulder. ‘Being head of the committee, they rely on me to keep everything in order.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘I’d hate to think of the bedlam if I’m not there.’
Charlize grimaced; Vivien would be in her element, bossing everyone around. She followed her into the kitchen, unsurprised by its faultless order. It felt almost sterile, very unlike the warm lively kitchen back at Rollingstone Ridge.
‘Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?’ Vivien said as she pulled a chair out at the dining table and motioned for Charlize to sit. ‘Or I have water if you’d rather.’
‘I’ll have a tea please, white with two.’ Charlize made herself as comfortable as she could, given the circumstances, thankful for the fact she had a view of an empty paddock out the window. It curbed her feeling of being trapped in what felt like a fabricated world of perfection.
She took her time to look around the room as Vivien busied herself with getting cups and saucers from the overhead cupboards. A perfectly folded tea towel hung from the gleaming oven door, the gentle swish from the dishwasher along with the efficient hum of refrigerator the only sound in the room. The silence was a little unnerving. A professional knife block then caught her attention, and a shiver ran down her spine. She shook her head at her ability to freak herself out—although strange, Vivien was no murderer.
She turned her attention to the green apples and bananas in the fruit bowl at the centre of the dining table, the normalcy of it comforting. Refraining from strumming her fingers on the table, Charlize pulled her iPhone out of her bag in readiness to tape the interview.
After making the tea, Vivien joined her at the table, a crammed tray in her hands. She placed it down before pulling a chair out and sitting.
Charlize eyed the way everything was placed perfectly in line on the tray, including the teaspoons. She remained quiet as Vivien methodically placed everything out in front of them, including a plate of what appeared to be homemade Anzac biscuits. Charlize almost drooled—Anzacs were her favourite biscuit ever.
Tea now poured from an antique looking teapot, Vivien drizzled milk into her china cup and then offered the jug to Charlize. ‘I’ll let you pour it in.’ She took a dainty sip and then after placing the cup back into its saucer, folded her hands in front of her on the table. ‘So, first things first, how do I get the payment your boss has so kindly offered?’
Charlize cringed as the teaspoon she was using clinked noisily against the side of her cup and Vivien scowled as she eyed the fine china. She gritted her teeth and ignored Vivien’s foul look, wanting to get this over with and get out of here. ‘As soon as you’ve told me what it is you’re so eager to share, I’ll call my boss and have him transfer the amount into your chosen account—but only if it’s something worth printing.’ She took a sip of her tea, it becoming more of a glug as she watched Vivien’s eyes darken.
‘Oh trust me, this is certainly newsworthy.’
Charlize offered a forced smile of her own now. ‘Well, I’ll leave that to my boss’s discretion.’
‘And how do I know you and your boss are not going to rip me off?’
Exasperated, Charlize played stupid. ‘What do you mean?’
‘That you’re not going to get the info out of me and then not pay me for it.’
‘Because Jasper and I simply wouldn’t do that.’ Charlize held her ground by not wavering from Vivien’s penetrating stare. ‘Just as I have to trust you’re not going to tell me lies, you have to trust we will stick to our side of the bargain.’
Vivien’s lips twitched before she pursed them. She sucked in a noisy breath and then exhaled it forcefully. ‘Okay, here goes.’
Charlize sat up straighter, her belly exploding with nerves. She reached for her phone. ‘Okay then—’ she opened the voice application and pressed record ‘—the stage is all yours.’
Vivien’s brows bumped together. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m going to record our interview, so I have proof if needed.’
Vivien shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but I won’t be letting you record what I have to say. I’d rather you do it the old-fashioned way.’
‘And what way might that be?’
Vivien rolled her eyes. ‘A pen and paper, perhaps.’
‘Okay, if that’s going to be more comfortable for you.’ Begrudgingly, Charlize stopped recording then slipped her phone back into her bag. ‘Better?’
‘Much.’ Vivien took another sip from her tea, and then carefully placed the cup down as her lips tugged at the corners, a sneer claiming them. ‘I’m just going to get it out, without all the bells and whistles.’
Even though Charlize was dreading hearing what she was about to say, she found herself on the edge of her seat. ‘Go ahead.’ She held the tip of her pen against the notepad.
‘Mick Armstrong was gay.’
Charlize fought to hide her shock. ‘How do you know?’
Vivien scowled. ‘I found my stepson, Warren, in bed with him.’
‘What? When?’
‘Not long before Mick passed away. The pair of them had apparently been committing adultery for years.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because I confronted Warren and he told me everything.’
Charlize slowly shook her head in disbelief. ‘But Mick Armstrong sounds as though he was very much a man’s man, especially being involved in the rodeo scene for more than half his life. And from what Dallas has told me he was also a very devoted husband and father. Are you certain?’
‘Sounds like Dallas has been very selective with what he’s told you.’ Vivien slammed her left hand on the table and then pointed her finger at Charlize. ‘Don’t question me, girly, I have proof if needed.’
Although her insides were twisting and turning, Charlize put on her business face. ‘I’m not doubting you, Vivien. I was just a little taken back, that’s all.’ She said this as she scribbled notes down. ‘And what might this proof be?’ She looked up, waiting with bated breath.
Vivien’s face was tense now, her eyes almost slits. ‘I have photos of them together.’
‘Can I see them?’ She really, really didn’t want to.
‘Yes, you can, but I will not allow you to use them in your newspaper.’ Vivien pushed her chair back and stood, one eyebrow arched.
With Vivien gone from the room, Charlize tried to catch her breath and slow her racing heart. She bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. Did Katherine know her husband of over thirty years had been cheating on her? Did Dallas know the man he admired for being such a strong masculine influence in his life was in fact gay? Did any of Mick’s fans know? She somehow doubted it. Which meant, once printed, it would rip their world out from beneath them and shatter their already broken hearts. And it would most certainly ruin any kind of bond Charlize now shared with them.
How was she going to return to face them with a clear conscience? They had all been so kind and so very welcoming, and she cared more for Dallas than she wanted to admit. For the first time in her career she felt
as though she was deceiving those she cared about for the sake of a story—she’d never thought she’d find herself in this position. But what was she meant to do when her career hinged on this article? She’d already lost enough in her life of late; she couldn’t risk losing her job too. And there was no way she could sweep this under the rug now that Jasper was involved. Damn it for not going to Vivien first, before the ghastly woman had the audacity to call Jasper, because she might have found a way to avoid him finding out.
Before Charlize had time to ponder this further, Vivien returned with several photos in her hands. She placed them down on the dining table, one by one. She never said a word, the photos saying all that was needed.
The images were shocking, and very intimate. Three of them were of Mick and Warren leaning against the bullbar of a truck, their limbs entwined. And the other three were of them curled up with one another in the sleeper of the truck—thankfully with a sheet covering their private regions. Charlize refused to touch the photos. Her fingers trembled as she folded her hands in her lap.
It wasn’t the intimacy of the act that disturbed her. It was the fact this woman could do this to her own son, stepson or not. She remembered the man she had briefly met at Hollie’s cafe, and again when having lunch with Katherine at the Railway pub. Anger stole her ability to think and act in a businesslike manner as she looked up at Vivien, who was now seated back at the table, her hands clasped beneath her chin.
For a moment Charlize stared in speechless indignation before finding her voice. ‘How?’
‘Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.’ Vivien tipped her head. ‘How what?’
‘How could you do this to your own son?’
‘He is my stepson. If he were my own flesh and blood he would never do such a thing.’ Surprise and anger contorted Vivien’s features. She sucked in a breath as she straightened her shoulders. ‘But the question should be, how could Warren do this to me after everything I’ve done for him?’
Charlize shook her head in disbelief as a sick ugliness twisted in her stomach. ‘You really think Warren has done this to spite you?’
Vivien flinched as if struck. Her eyes narrowed as she leant in closer to Charlize. ‘I raised him to be a devout Catholic—’ she sneered ‘—or so I had thought. Warren has dishonoured the Lord’s name, and me, by doing what he’s done, and he needs to repent for his sin.’
Charlize couldn’t help herself, this whole situation nauseating her. ‘I disagree, Vivien. Just because someone might be gay, doesn’t mean we have the right to persecute them, or call them names, or get laws passed to silence them and stop them from fulfilling their desire to be together. It’s a human right to find love and be in love, so why can’t we just accept them for being who they are?’
Anger flashed in Vivien’s eyes. ‘God created Adam and Eve, a man and a woman, to carry out his command to fill the earth, and homosexuality undermines the basic family unit of husband and wife. How is humankind meant to continue if there are no children?’
Charlize almost laughed at Vivien’s old-fashioned way of thinking. Is that what this was all about? Warren not having children, and Vivien’s inability to have children herself? ‘There will always be children.’
Vivien smacked her open palms down on the table, rattling the cups and saucers. ‘I don’t give a damn what you think, Charlize, and I’m appalled you feel it necessary to defend such wicked acts.’ Her face flushed red with fury. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Mick Armstrong got what he deserved in that accident. I believe it was God’s way of making him repent for his sins, and now Warren needs to do the same before God sends him to hell too.’
Charlize fought back the urge to reach out and slap Vivien across the face. What kind of person would say such a horrid thing? ‘It’s not very Christian of you to wish death upon someone, Vivien.’ It was hard to speak through gritted teeth.
‘Warren was destined to be a good father, and he had a wonderful woman in his life until Mick came along and ruined everything.’ Vivien stood as though she’d been sitting on a thorn, her chair crashing to the floor behind her with the force. ‘I think it’s time for you to call your boss and organise payment. And then I would like you to leave my house as soon as possible.’
‘It would be my pleasure to leave,’ Charlize growled as she stood while shoving her notebook back in her handbag. Something here felt very very wrong. She tried to curb the thoughts taunting her—she’d have time to ponder them outside. ‘And just for the record, my boss is gay too.’
Vivien folded her arms across her chest, her face glowing red. ‘I don’t care because after this I don’t need to have anything to do with him, or you. I just want what’s owed to me.’ She snatched the photos from the table. ‘And don’t even think about trying to steal these.’
Charlize felt as though she was about to explode. The cheek of this woman! ‘I wouldn’t want them.’ Snatching her mobile from her bag, she dialled Jasper’s number.
He answered after two rings.
‘Hi Jasper.’ Charlize’s voice was strained, tense, her body trembling with anger.
‘You sound terrible, darling. What’s happened?’
‘I’m at Vivien’s, and she would like payment before I leave.’ Charlize wanted to tell him everything, how this horrendous woman was a homophobe, but she wouldn’t do it in front of Vivien for fear of breaking down. The heartlessness of the woman was beyond her comprehension.
‘Okay, but are you going to tell me what she had to say first?’
Charlize turned her back to Vivien. ‘Mick Armstrong was gay, and was having an affair with Vivien’s son.’
‘Stepson.’ Vivien corrected her.
Charlize was dangerously close to losing it.
‘Does she have proof?’
‘She has photos of them together.’
‘She has?’ Jasper sounded as disgusted as Charlize felt.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘You can’t talk right now can you?’
‘Nope.’
‘Okay, call me as soon as you’re out of there so we can mull it over together.’
‘Will do.’
‘Well, much as it revolts me, I guess we’ll have to pay her.’ He sighed weightily. ‘Let her know I’ll do a direct transfer now, and then text you the bank receipt so you can show her before you leave.’
‘Okay, talk later.’ Charlize hung up.
She turned back to Vivien and smiled cynically. ‘He’s banking it now. He’s texting me the bank receipt, but it may take a few minutes.’
Vivien’s moccasin clad foot began tapping the floor as her scowl deepened. ‘I will walk you to your car and have a look there.’
‘Have it your way.’ Exasperated, Charlize turned and made her own way out of the kitchen and down the hallway. She needed to get outside so she could suck in a lungful of fresh air. And before she lost her temper and ended up saying something she might regret later. She slipped her heels back on, unlocked the front door and walked outside into the light.
Vivien’s footfalls were close behind her, but Charlize refused to turn back and look at her until she’d reached Katherine’s car. Reaching in her bag and grabbing her mobile, she was relieved to see Jasper had texted her. She held the phone out so it was a few inches from Vivien’s face. ‘Happy?’
‘Delighted,’ Vivien replied with a smile that was arctic. ‘Now drive home safely, won’t you.’
The hairs bristled on the back of her neck as Charlize slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, making sure to click the central locking as she did. All church-going prim and proper on the outside, but with the heart and soul of the devil, Vivien was one creepy lady. Charlize had never encountered anyone like her, and hoped she never would again.
Huffing, she tossed her handbag onto the seat beside her, watching as Vivien made her way back down the garden path and then disappeared through the front door. Good riddance, she thought, as the door closed behind her. It was only then that Cha
rlize felt as though she could breathe again.
Speed dialling Jasper’s number once more, she rested her head back against the seat as she relayed everything.
‘I don’t know how you contained yourself, darling. I would have slapped her into tomorrow.’
Charlize smiled through her anger. ‘You would not have, Jasper. You seriously couldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘True, but I would have thought about it.’
‘Trust me, I did too.’ She sighed. ‘So what’s your take on it all?’
Jasper matched her sigh. ‘Well, a champion bull rider with a double life? It’s certainly newsworthy, and I’ve just paid a hefty sum for her information, so I think we’re going to have to run with it.’
Charlize felt as if she was about to throw up. ‘I feel terrible, Jasper, doing this behind Dallas and Katherine’s backs, and to think it’s going to go to print makes me sick to the stomach. These people don’t deserve to have their lives turned upside down. Shouldn’t we be a bit more respectful of the dead—it’s not like Mick can defend himself.’
‘I know it’s hard darling, I’ve been in your shoes before—where you get close to someone you’re interviewing and then you have to spill the beans on something catastrophic. But it’s our job, and the big boss will be extremely pissed off if we don’t follow through with it now. I wish I could think of a way around it, but honestly I don’t think there is one.’
Charlize choked back a sob. ‘I know.’ She squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I just wish I never found any of this out.’
Saying her goodbyes, Charlize hung up, the thoughts she’d pushed to the back of her mind while still inside Vivien’s house now scrambling to be heard.
There was something wrong about Vivien. They way she’d described her husband, and the fact he had died in a very similar way to Mick Armstrong—a car accident where no other vehicle was involved—was a huge red flag. She had not told Jasper everything rolling around in her mind, for fear of being way off track, but there was something she needed to find out for herself sooner rather than later.
Unable to head over to the Grenfell Record before she investigated further, Charlize turned to Google for answers. Her hands trembled as she typed in her question, reasons for brake failure, and then waited for the results to pop up.