by Belle Brooks
At times throughout dinner, I felt as though Tessa was uneasy about the situation, but she wasn’t impolite or unpleasant, so maybe it was something I was imagining … To say I’m not on edge would be a lie—I am. Any moment I’m expecting a harsh knocking at Finlay’s door, and my very angry father to be on the other side. I’m asking too much of Finlay, I know I am, but I’ve nowhere else to go. In hindsight, I could have gone to a resort and taken up a room there, but my daddy would have found me before the night’s end and I’d have nobody to help talk him down and protect my decision to leave. Did I come here solely for support and protection, or is there more to this decision I’ve made?
Poker night is Wednesday and Friday nights at the manor, Alan tells me, and when Blocker, Rance, Tardo, and Sailor all arrive around 8:00 p.m., we head into the games room where my grey dress, pearl necklace, and stilettos are placed on a chair in the corner. I flick my eyes to Finlay, who chuckles from my reaction. He mustn’t have brought them with him on Sunday like he said he would.
“Rose, beware of Tessa. She is a poker shark and she will wipe you clean of all your dough,” Tardo says.
“Oh, I see.” I giggle. “Beware of Tessa. Thank you, I will be.”
“Don’t be giving away my secrets now, lads,” Tessa says simply, wheeling in the oxygen tank behind her. “They’re telling you the truth, though, Rose.” She smiles at me momentarily before sitting down in front of a table covered with green felt that has been set up. “Who’s dealing?”
“Frank the fucking Tank,” Blocker shouts.
“Mouth, Maverick,” Tessa scolds.
“Sorry, Rose.” He turns to face me.
“No, please don’t be. I do know how to cuss, you know.”
“You do?” Rance calls me out. His tone clipped but cool.
“Fuck oath, I do.” I feel foolish and embarrassed to utter such words.
Laughter fills the room and within minutes the game is underway.
Sadly, I’m not a good poker player, and Tessa is indeed taking everyone’s money. And although I have some cash in my bag to continue playing, I must be sensible with my money, as I’ll be needing it when I flee town.
“Tess, come on. Stop whooping our arses.” Finlay drops his head to the table he was responsible for setting up for us to play on. “Why didn’t you teach me to play like this when I was young?”
“What, and give you all my secrets? Not a chance, kid.”
Everyone is laughing except for Fin—he’s eyeing her in admiration. Tessa really was his foster mum.
“Who wants to hear some stories about Fin?”
“Me.” My eagerness is on full display.
Tessa laughs, and then starts to cough and splutter. It’s a struggle for her to catch her breath, and Finlay is out of his chair and rubbing her back before I have a chance to blink. Tessa clasps a white handkerchief with pink lace stitched to its side, and when she coughs to the point of almost being sick, she places this material against her lips where she continues to cough again. I worry for her wellbeing.
Sailor rushes to where Tessa is struggling to breathe opposite me. Crouching down, I wonder what he is doing, but don’t continue to wonder for long because he says, “I’ve turned your oxygen up, Tess. Try and take deep, slow breaths, you old bird.”
Finally, Tessa manages to bring her coughing under control, and when she removes the handkerchief she previously placed over her mouth, I see a bright red blood stain upon it. I can’t control the sudden gasp pressing past my lips.
“It’s okay, Rose. It’s normal for there to be blood. Tessa has lung cancer.” Alan says this in such a rehearsed way, I believe it’s something he’s heard Tessa say many times.
“I see.” I don’t know what else to say.
As soon as Tessa is back in control of her air intake, she shrugs Finlay away from her. Tessa seems to be a strong, independent woman. I can’t help wondering how she came to be Finlay’s foster mother. My desire to know gets the better of me, because I blurt out, “How did Finlay come into your care, Tessa?”
Tessa flicks her eyes to Finlay, who nods just once in response to her unspoken question.
“Okay then. Settle in, Rose. I’ve a story for you.”
I nod.
“I was once a young and healthy woman,” Tess starts. “Was I forty-four or fifty-four when you showed up, Fin?” She rotates her head in his direction.
“Fifty-four, I believe.”
“Okay, a little older than young, but still young at heart, when the Department of Child Safety called me early in the morning to let me know they had an urgent care placement request for a small boy at the hospital. I had three other children in my care at the time, and I’d planned to decline, that’s until they told me his age and that his father had beaten his mother close to death … you see, Rose, when this happened both his parents were in a drug-induced rage. Finlay’s parents were drug addicts. He saw what happened. I couldn’t turn him away.”
My heart thrums loudly, so loudly I believe everyone at the table can hear it also.
“Four hours later, there he was. Light brown hair, big brown tired-looking eyes … He was filthy, bruised all over. His hair was long and a tattered, matted mess. Oh, he was skinny, Rose, bone thin … It was obvious he was malnourished.”
I know my mouth is hanging wide. And even though I want to glance in Finlay’s direction, I don’t. I keep my attention on Tessa.
“He was a sweet kid, even though he’d been hard done by, and once I had his hair cut, the lice that had homed in there killed, and we sourced him some clothing that would fit his fragile limbs, we started to get to know each other. Together, we mastered a lot in a short time. I enrolled him into the local public school, and we went from there. Kids came and went through my house, but Finlay never left. He was with me until just before he turned eighteen and he moved out with these fellows sitting here today.”
“I couldn’t even imagine …” I stop, unsure how to finish the sentence.
“There are a lot of kids out there without fancy things and a cosy life like you, Rose.”
“I know I don’t.”
“You don’t know what hard is, my dear, or how to survive in a rough town.”
“I know …”
“Now you asked your question, so I’ll ask you mine.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me, Rose, why are you here? Why are you running away?”
I wasn’t wrong. Tessa isn’t overly happy about me staying here, and she’s hell-bent on putting me on the spot, right here and now.
“Tess!” Finlay barks.
“She had questions. So do I.”
“No. I understand.” I stare into Tessa’s sapphire-coloured eyes. “Where would you like me to start?” My voice shakes.
“Wherever you feel fit.”
“Well, I wasn’t born into money … We were from a farming town. My dad was offered a position in Hoffman in business, and he accepted it. When we first came to live here it wasn’t easy … sure, we had a nice house and stuff, but nobody knew us. In time, my father became very successful. And although I’ve never had a life like Finlay, right now I’m in a position I can’t seem to escape from, and, please understand, it’s one I need to escape. I’ll be gone from your home before you know it, and you’ll never see me again. Just because I’ve all the finer things in life doesn’t mean I’m happy and loved … and meeting Finlay and making an actual friend has given me the strength I needed to break out of a place and away from a life I’m not happy being in.”
Tessa keeps a neutral expression at first but when her lips stretch wide, I believe she appreciates my honesty in answering. “Fair enough.”
“I will do this on my own. I ask nothing more than a few days of protection until I sort out what I need to do and I’ll be gone. I really could use this safety net to land in for a short reprieve.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“I think we’ll call it a night, hey?” Tardo says.
“Let’s go.” Rance stands.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Rose.” Sailor tips his head.
“Laters,” they say in unison before departing.
“I’ve school in the morning. So, goodnight.” Alan leaves just as quickly.
“I’m sorry for ruining your night,” I say.
“Don’t be.” Tessa’s husky tone suggests there is no malice laced in these words.
“Was that really necessary, Tessa?” Finlay isn’t impressed. He glares at her.
“Maybe it wasn’t, but do you feel better getting it off your chest, Rose?”
“I do. Strangely, I really do.”
“I’m glad.” Tessa takes her time in standing, and as I watch her, I realise she didn’t do what she did to hurt me—she did it to make me see why I’m really here.
“Goodnight, you two. Sleep well, Rose.” Tessa pats my shoulder twice before continuing past me.
“Are you okay, Rose?” Finlay is searching for my reaction. He’s not just staring at me, he’s staring into me.
“I am definitely okay.” I smile when I say this, because I needed to embrace the situation I’m in more than I realised. I thought I was running here for safety and a place to figure things out and make decisions. Instead, I came here to put the decisions I’ve already made subconsciously into place.
“I’ll show you to the room then?”
“Please. I’m tired.”
“Follow me.” He stands.
“Let me just grab my bag … It’s near the garage door.”
“Okay.”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Hard and forceful sounds come from the front door.
“Oh shit,” I breathe.
“Finlay Crossley, open up. It’s the police.”
“Police.” No, Daddy wouldn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Finlay
I march in the direction of the sound. I knew this would happen. “Rose, don’t answer it. Take the stairs and turn right—it’s the last room at the end of the corridor. I’ll take care of this.”
“You don’t—”
Placing my hand on Rose’s arm, I gently say, “Please, go upstairs.”
“Okay.” She’s rattled. Her hand shakes.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Police. Open the door.”
“Coming!” I call out, keeping my eyes planted to Rose as she takes to the staircase. Swivelling on my heel, I barge forward, but pause when I take the handle into my grip … “Long deep inhales,” I mutter, putting in place a trick Tessa taught me when I was very young to keep my temper under control.
“Can I help you?” I deliver this calmly when I’m composed enough to open the door.
Two police officers and Mr Horton stand there in wait.
“I’m Sergeant Pittensburg, and this is Constable Williams.” He points to the other officer in attendance. “Mr Crossley, we’re trying to locate Roselette Horton. Do you know where she is?”
“Yes, sir. She’s here.” There’s no point in lying. It will only make it worse.
“Can we please speak with her?” he continues.
“She’s unavailable at the moment.” Do not look at Horton, I keep telling myself internally.
“We need to ensure she’s safe and in a well state of mind.”
“She is.”
“We need to speak with her.”
“It’s not the right time to do so. Can I politely ask you to come back in the morning?”
“Mr Crossley, we will have a warrant drawn before morning, so it’s best we do this now.”
“I want to see my daughter.” Horton’s not going to back down until he sees Rose, and I’m concerned he’ll do something stupid in front of these officers if he doesn’t and end up in trouble himself.
“It’s okay,” Roselette says from behind me. “I’m here.” She comes to stand at my side.
“There. She’s fine, as you can see.” I’m getting annoyed.
“Can you please step outside, Miss Horton?” Pittensburg says.
“No, thank you.” She remains ever-so-polite.
“Mr Horton, she just needs some space—grant her what she’s asking for, and I’ll see her home to you.” I’m making a promise I can’t keep or even make on Rose’s behalf, but it might be enough for him to back off.
“Daddy, please. I’m a grown woman … I’m not a child. I have the right to go where I want and do as I please. I’m not breaking any laws. I’m not in any mental or physical danger—”
“You’re supposed to be on a plane, Roselette.”
“To a place I have no desire to go with a person who is a danger to me. Daddy, you can’t have your way this time. Please, leave me be.”
“You did this to her.” Horton outstretches his finger in my direction.
I don’t even bother to reply. It will make no difference.
“Roselette, I do need to ask you to step outside with us. A quick moment of your time and then you can return to doing what it is you were.”
Rose looks at me.
“Go talk to them. I’ll wait here. It’s okay,” I reassure her.
“Fine.”
Rose steps through the doorway and follows Pittensburg until they both move out of my line of sight. Williams stands a distance from Horton and although I try not to look at Rose’s father, I do. His eyes are unwavering and intense, they narrow as he scowls at me. I keep breathing to keep my temper in check. I can’t react. It will do no good. The sooner they’re gone the better.
“We’re sorry to interrupt your evening, Mr Crossley.” Pittensburg tips a uniformed baseball-style hat in my direction as Rose comes back through the doorway.
“No bother. It’s best to ensure someone is safe, and as you can see, Rose is.” Every part of me wants to rip Horton a new one, but it will do no good here.
“Have a good evening,” Pittensburg says as he backs away from the door.
“You can’t just leave her here,” Horton barks.
“They aren’t breaking any laws, Mr Horton.”
Before another word is spoken, I push the door closed and turn towards Rose, who has her arms crossed defensively in front of her chest.
“And so it begins,” she mumbles before retreating towards the staircase I thought she’d gone up previously.
“Did you find the room okay?” I ask, following.
“I didn’t make it there … I waited at the top of the staircase.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Rose swings her hips in a hypnotic way as she takes each stair in front of me. The navy dress she’s wearing accentuates her curves and is fitted with perfection to her well-structured silhouette … must be custom designed. All Rose’s outfits fit her like a glove.
Bending at her waist, Rose retrieves her overnight bag from the landing and before long she’s standing by the door leading into my bedroom. Rose doesn’t rotate her body towards me. Instead, she twists her head to speak over her shoulder, “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying in here tonight?”
“Yes, Rose, I’m sure.” Flicking a switch on my way through the walk-in robe has Rose halting. “It’s a strange design with the wardrobe being the entrance, right?”
“It is.” She takes in the large space. “It’s definitely a female’s wardrobe, though. It’s quite bare, with only your belongings taking up the space.” There’s not much filling the racks or shelving.
“Yeah, clothes aren’t my thing.”
“What is your thing?” she says, starting forwards once more.
“Motorbikes, I guess.”
“Do you own a motorbike? I haven’t seen you riding one.”
“Not yet, but it’s on the way. My dream bike ... it’s worth the wait.”
“Seems like you’re getting everything you’ve dreamt of, Finlay.”
“Not everything,” I say, switching on a secondary light that allows us to see i
n the main area of the bedroom. Rose scans the environment as she lays her bag down against the navy comforter on the bed.
“It’s also very plain in here. Come to think of it, all of the place I’ve seen is quite bare boned.”
“I like it uncluttered,” I retort.
“It’s nice,” she says. “I’d like to take a bath, if it’s possible.”
“Sure. Give me a moment to get you some fresh towels and start the water. Would you like to use the spa or just the tub?”
“Bathtub will be fine if it’s fine with you for me to do so.”
“Sure.”
Leaving Rose by the bed, I whip into the bathroom and do a quick check that everything is in order. It is. I only need to place a couple of fresh towels on the vanity for her, which I do, before turning on the taps. I haven’t used the tub or the spa for that matter, so I’ve no idea how long it takes to fill. It looks deep and well-spaced, so I assume a while.
“Rose, how do you take a bath? Like, what temperature do you like it?”
“Just warm, please.”
“Okay.” I twist the gold levers of both the hot and cold taps to the mid-point of their rotation. This should achieve a warm temperature, I hope. I open all the cabinetry, searching for some sort of girly bath wash or bubble bath. Of course I don’t have any.
“What are you doing?”
“Sorry, what?” I crawl backwards before closing the empty bottom cupboard I crouched down to reach.
“What are you doing on the floor?”
“Nothing.” I almost jump to my feet before straightening, then glance in the direction of where I believe Rose to be standing, fully expecting her to be clothed, but she’s not. Instead, she’s only wearing a matching navy lace underwear set. “Oh, I’m sorry.” I shield my eyes.
“For what?” she asks.
“I wasn’t … I thought you’d still … I’ll leave you to it,” I stutter.
“Fin, you saw me in my bikini only days ago. It’s no different to underwear. It’s not like I’m naked.”
“No. It’s not.” I keep my eyes turned away. “I don’t have any of that girly bath shit you probably want.”
She laughs. “It’s okay. I have some with me.”
“Good. Well, have a relaxing bath. I’ll see you in the morning.”