Good Intentions

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Good Intentions Page 2

by Marg McAlister


  How easy it would be, he thought, to just grab her and run. His fingers actually twitched.

  Might solve everything, at that.

  She turned and skipped ahead of him, still chattering like a little bird. Two paces, three, then out of his reach. “Music like when I dance.” She turned in a circle and did a few clumsy dance steps, shaking her arms above her head and out to the side. “Da da da da da da…”

  The front door suddenly opened and Emma stood there. Her mouth immediately firmed into a hard slash. “You.”

  “Hi Emma.” He stopped at the bottom of the steps. “How are things?”

  “He’s a friend of Grandma’s,” Jasmine said, bounding up and tugging at her mother’s hand. “But he’s lost her phone number. Do you have it, mummy?”

  “No,” Emma said. She grabbed her daughter and pushed her behind her. “Go inside, Jas.”

  “But mummy…”

  “Inside!” Her voice cracked like a whip, and the kid ran inside, protesting. The moment her daughter had gone, she took a step forward. “Get out. Right now, or I’m calling the cops.”

  Abandoning all hope of conning her into a phone number, he sneered at her. “For what?”

  “Trespassing.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Trying to entice a little girl to go with you.”

  “You cow. I did no such thing.”

  “Go. Get. I’m not telling you where she is, or how to contact her. She never wants to hear from you again. You’re dead to her, Chook.”

  She whirled and went inside and slammed the door in his face.

  Shoving down the impulse to go and hammer on the door and yell at her, Chook gritted his teeth, shook his fist at the door, and turned on his heel.

  She thought that was the end of it, did she?

  He’d show her. He’d keep that little girl as a ‘maybe’ if he couldn’t get to her grandmother any other way.

  Meanwhile, he had some thinking to do.

  A mountain, somewhere in Australia. With a name that sounded like bells.

  For pity’s sake.

  Internet search coming up.

  Chook wrenched open the door of his pitiful panel van, all he could get hold of when the money had dried up and the engine blew up on his HiLux. He’d weaseled the van out of a crackhead in exchange for a few grams of ice, and hadn’t bothered transferring the vehicle to his name. Why would he do that? It was a plus not to own a car that might be used in a robbery, as long as the thing kept running.

  He gunned the engine—as much as you could with such a heap of junk—and took off down the road.

  He should be driving something way better than this. And once he found her, he would be.

  Inside the house, Emma dropped the curtain after watching to ensure that he had driven away and went to where her daughter was sitting hunched in a corner of the sofa, her bottom lip jutting mutinously. Her eyes flew to her mother’s, wariness battling with anger.

  “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” Emma forced herself to speak gently, but she could hear the strain in her voice. “Jas, that was a bad man. I didn’t want him here.”

  “He said he’s a friend of Grandma’s.”

  “He’s not. He was just pretending to be.” Emma sat beside her daughter and gave her a hug. “What did he say to you, Jas?”

  Stiff in her arms, Jas looked away. “Nothing.”

  Emma sighed. She’d yelled at Jas, and now she’d have to work to bring her round. “I’m not mad at you, Jas. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Jasmine’s bottom lip jutted further. She still didn’t meet her mother’s eyes.

  “Is that all he said, Jas? That he wanted Gran’s phone number?”

  “No.”

  “What else did he say?” Emma encouraged her gently. She reached out a hand and smoothed a few flyaway strands of blonde hair from Jasmine’s forehead.

  “He said my name. He said it was like a flower.”

  Emma felt fury punch into her gut. He’d called her daughter by name to gain her confidence. Said he was her grandmother’s friend.

  “Well, I’m not surprised you thought he was a friend, knowing your name and your grandma’s name,” she said lightly. “Did you talk about anything else?”

  Thawing a little, Jasmine nodded. “He wanted to know the name of Grandma’s mountain, but I couldn’t remember.”

  “Grandma’s mountain.” A shiver crept up Emma’s spine. “He knows Grandma is on a mountain?”

  Again wary, Jasmine nodded. “He wanted to know where she was, and I said she was visiting a mountain.”

  “But you couldn’t remember.”

  Jasmine gave a tiny shake of her head.

  “Jas…” Emma swallowed. “Do you know which state Grandma is in?”

  Jasmine nodded proudly. “Queensland.”

  “Did you tell the man that?”

  “No,” Jasmine said. “He didn’t want to know that.”

  Emma closed her eyes. Thank God for small mercies. “OK, Jas. That’s good.” She patted her daughter on the cheek. “You had no way of knowing he was a bad man. But you do now, so if he ever comes near you again, run away. Come find me.”

  “OK.” Jasmine finally smiled.

  “Before I make some lunch,” Emma said, “just have one last think. Did he say anything else to you that you haven’t told me yet?”

  Jasmine took a moment to think. “He was trying to guess the name of the mountain, but they were all wrong. Then you came out.”

  Emma stood up. “Right. Lunchtime. Want to come and help?”

  Happy again, Jasmine slid off the sofa and raced ahead of her to the kitchen. “I want cheese sticks! And chicken nuggets! And then can I have an ice cream?”

  She’d settle Jas in front of the TV with her lunch, Emma thought, and then she’d call her mother.

  Tell her that Chook was looking for her.

  3

  Shirley

  The magazine that Shirley was flicking through was like all of them these days, full of stories about celebrities and their diets or their baby bumps. The people who stayed at the campground often passed magazines on to her, but there was rarely anything of interest in them.

  Shirley closed it and laid it on her lap, her eyes going instead to the new caravan that Louise’s son had towed into the campground a short time before.

  She liked Scott. He had his father’s warm, calm eyes and easy smile. You could tell he was a good man, just like her husband Norm had been, God rest his soul.

  Georgie, the woman that Scott had brought back with him from the US, was nice too. She was the daughter of some big RV manufacturer over there, Louise had told her. Someone who had worked his way up and made a success of his life, but Georgie didn’t act rich or spoiled. Her dark brown eyes were thoughtful, and kind of…knowing. Or was Shirley being fanciful, just thinking that way because Louise said that she came from generations of gypsies who used a crystal ball to tell fortunes?

  Shirley didn’t really hold with all that nonsense. She would never say that to Louise, of course, because Louise was into astrology and cards and the like, and Louise had been kind to her. Shirley thought the astrology pages were, well, pretty stupid.

  She picked up the magazine again and turned the pages until she found the astrology column, and read the predictions for her star sign.

  It’s time to pay more attention to your image. This might involve some new clothes or a makeover. If you feel you’re in a rut, try reaching out to make new friends. Share ideas and plans with others and enlist some support. But be careful: money is going to be tight. You might want to take another look at your budget.

  Shirley looked down at her plain blue t-shirt and her knee-length denim shorts. She didn’t need or want new clothes, and why she would need a makeover tucked away in a tiny campground on a property near Tamborine Mountain, she couldn’t imagine.

  The stars could be right about her budget, though. After selling her home and buying this motorhome she had only a little
over eighty thousand dollars to last the rest of her life.

  She drew in a deep breath and tried not to panic at the thought of it. Lots of people had far less than she did. She’d found a good deal in an almost-new motorhome so she’d have a warranty and no worries about mechanical problems. It should be trouble-free for years, fingers crossed, and she could stay in free campgrounds until she was eligible for a pension.

  The campground she was in now wasn’t supposed to be free, but Louise seemed happy enough to let her stay on as caretaker for the moment.

  One step at a time.

  At least she was several states away from Chook.

  Movement caught her eye, and she glanced up to see Louise, Scott and Georgie stepping out of the caravan. Louise waved, and then they all headed her way.

  “Hi,” Louise said when they reached her. “What do you think of Scott and Georgie’s new home?”

  “I was just admiring it.” Shirley looked past them at the rig. “It looks like an off-road model.”

  “It is. A Jabiru Outback, less than two years old,” Scott told her.

  “And that LandCruiser he bought from his Uncle Craig was a steal,” Louise added. “It’s been garaged almost the whole time since he bought it. Five years old and as good as new. I don’t know why Craig wanted it in the first place. He and Kathy drive the little Mazda all the time.”

  Georgie, still looking buzzed about their new purchase, smiled at Shirley. “Want to come and have a look through it?”

  “Go on, Shirley, you have to see it,” Louise said. “And then come up to the house for lunch. You haven’t been up for a week or so. I’m missing your friendly face.”

  “Oh. Thanks, I’d love to.” Shirley felt a small curl of pleasure. She did try to give good value in exchange for Louise letting her stay here free, but it was nice to think that Louise liked her for herself. “I didn’t want to intrude while you had family visiting.”

  “That’s nice of you, but it’s time you met them properly,” Louise said firmly. “Come and hear some of the tales that Scott and Georgie have to tell. They haven’t exactly led a quiet life over in the States!” Louise put her hand on Scott’s arm. “I’m going on up to get lunch together.”

  “I’ll come with you. I want to talk to Dad about the Anderson plug.” He and his mother headed off, and Shirley could hear Scott trying to explain what an Anderson plug was.

  Georgie gestured at the magazine on Shirley’s lap. “I see you’re reading your horoscope. Have you had Louise do a reading for you yet?”

  Louise hastily closed the magazine, almost feeling embarrassed at being caught looking at her fate in the stars, until she remembered that Georgie was in the habit of consulting a crystal ball. She was probably into horoscopes too.

  “Not yet,” she said. “Louise has tried to talk me into it, but I—” She shrugged, and decided to be honest. “I’m not really into that sort of stuff. I’m not saying that Louise isn’t good at it, but it’s not for me.” She stood up. “Hang on—I’ll just lock up the RV, since we’re going up to the house, and then I’ll be ready.”

  “OK. I’ll go over and drool over our new wheels some more,” Georgie said cheerfully. “Come and have a quick look when you’re ready and then we’ll go to lunch.”

  Another one who didn’t believe, thought Georgie while she waited for Shirley. She opened a few more cupboards and thought about what she might keep in them, but found her mind drifting back to Shirley again. It didn’t sound as though it would be easy to get her to agree to a reading of any kind. Maybe she could trick her into a quick reading of tea leaves rather than a crystal ball.

  Already, she sensed tightness in the other woman, as though she was keeping things locked away. Wary, ready to bolt.

  Or was that too big a stretch?

  No, that was the impression Shirley had given—even though Georgie had exchanged only a few sentences with her.

  Perhaps over lunch she’d get a few more clues, when Louise was relaxed. Maybe she and Scott could regale her with a few stories about the Crystal Ball Investigation team, keeping it light and fun—while letting her know that they really might be able to help.

  Shirley’s voice at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Georgie? I’m here.”

  “Come on in.” Georgie leaned back against the kitchen sink and spread her hands to indicate the length of the caravan. “Weren’t we lucky? I really like this.”

  Inside, Shirley’s gaze roved around, taking in the open cupboards, the bathroom, the comfortable seating. “Nice. I do envy you the space, although I love my little motorhome.”

  “Your RV looks perfect for a solo traveler. I traveled around the US in a small gypsy caravan, and I loved it. Can I take a peek at yours later?”

  “Sure. Maybe after lunch?” Shirley pulled open a floor-to-ceiling panel. “Wow, look at that. A full-height pantry.”

  “I know. I feel spoiled,” Georgie confided. She watched while Shirley checked out the bathroom and the compact entertainment system, and ventured: “Louise tells us you’re a wonderful help to her.”

  “I try to be.” As she spoke, Shirley’s phone trilled. She pulled it out of her pocket, and her face lit up when she looked at the screen. “Excuse me—it’s my daughter.”

  “Sure.” To give her some space, Georgie wandered up to the bathroom and busied herself checking out the shower fittings, unhooking the spray nozzle and fiddling with the adjustments. It wasn’t possible, however, to block out Shirley’s end of the conversation.

  “Hi Em! How are things?”

  There was silence for a moment, and then Shirley’s voice changed, her voice becoming strained. “Today? What did he want?”

  Her voice dropped lower, and Georgie heard her go outside. “She didn’t tell him, did she…? No, of course, she’s only six. She wouldn’t remember.”

  More silence. Then, through the open windows, Shirley’s voice sounded again. “Are you sure he has no idea? I’ll move on, if I have to.”

  Another pause, and then Shirley’s subdued voice. “All right. If you hear any more…OK. I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye. Love you.”

  Georgie didn’t want to go out the moment the call was finished, making it obvious she had been listening in, so she banged about some more, popping up the bed to reveal the storage beneath, until she heard Shirley’s feet on the steps.

  “I’ll be able to store a ton of stuff in here,” she said. “The diesel heating unit doesn’t take up much room. What kind of heating do you have in the motorhome?”

  “Diesel, like you. Makes a difference when you go down south.”

  Shirley was polite, but her mind clearly wasn’t on RV heating.

  “I’ll come back and play house after lunch,” Georgie said, lowering the mattress again. “Start packing the cupboards. But right now, I’m starving. Let’s go find some food.”

  All the way up to the house, she kept chatting so Shirley didn’t have to.

  Things were worse than she’d expected. Was Shirley really thinking about moving on?

  Georgie didn’t know how she was going to find out what had put that expression of fear into those light blue eyes, but she was going to do it somehow.

  4

  Chook

  Chook was about ready to punch someone.

  He was reduced to trying to find a mountain that sounded like music, or bells, on his phone because his laptop computer had died and he couldn’t afford another one. To top it off there was a heat wave and the nasty little granny flat under his mate Grant’s house, on the outskirts of Melbourne, had two windows in the whole place and no air conditioning. Actually, granny flat was too fancy a name for it. It was a garage that had been turned into a living space—about twenty years ago. Now it was smelly and dirty and cockroaches fought him for every inch of space.

  He gritted his teeth and kept searching. The only way to improve his living standards was to find Shirley and induce her to part with some more cash. Whether she wanted to or not.

&n
bsp; Dammit, there was no Bell Mountain. No Mount Bells. He tried ‘Mountain that sounds like bells’ and got a whole bunch of search results about bellbirds, and ‘music’ got him nothing but music festivals. Chook didn’t even want to think about how much of his data allowance he was chewing up.

  After almost an hour, and countless diversions to web pages he didn’t want because his fingers kept accidentally hitting some link on the small phone screen, everything went black.

  The phone had run out of charge.

  Cursing, he pitched it across the room, but all that did was make him madder because he had to go and pick it up again to put it on the charger.

  The whole damn world was conspiring against him.

  Who did he know with a computer?

  Library, he thought. He could use the computer there for free.

  And, even better, he could ask the librarian for help. Tell her it was some kind of puzzle he had to solve.

  Yeah, that would do. He’d say his kid had come home from school with this puzzle, and the challenge was to find an answer.

  Why not let someone else do the work?

  A little over an hour later, Chook was back home. The library had been air-conditioned, so he’d cooled down some. He’d called into the drive-through at Macca’s on the way home, so he was no longer starving.

  And he’d found himself a smart librarian who, on a slow Saturday afternoon, had some time to help him search.

  He should have thought of the library right away. When he’d explained, she had given him a funny look at first, so Chook played it up.

  “My daughter,” he told her with a roll of his eyes, “she says, “Dad, it’s a mountain that sounds like bells. Like when I dance.” He mimicked the movements Jasmine had made, waving her arms around. “That’s all the clues I’m getting. The teacher wants to teach the kids how to use logic, or something.”

  “Logic.” The librarian’s eyebrows flew up. “And it’s a mountain somewhere in Australia. I won’t ask you if you realize how many mountains there are in this country. Lucky that we’re good with logic here.”

 

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