‘Sure.’ As she sang, he began to crawl towards her and by the end, he was out from under the bed, her hand gripped tight in his, his little body pressed to hers, head against her shoulder, his other hand reaching up to lie over the base of her throat, feeling the vibrations as she sang.
When she finished, he looked up at her, eyes bright, the shadow of his nightmares still there, but pushed back enough for now. ‘I love you, Mum.’
Carefully—oh so carefully—she brushed his sweat-damp hair back from his forehead, cupped his face and kissed his brow. ‘I love you too, my beautiful boy.’ When she leaned back, he was smiling, a smile that reached down and pulled at her heart in a way that was both painful and sweet. How could anyone have ever hurt this child? How could anyone ever hurt any child? She wanted to hold him to her, the fierceness of her love and protectiveness making her not want to let go. Ever. Although, she knew she couldn’t do it—she knew the misery of being held down, of being held back, of being kept ‘safe for your own good’. But she would protect him in every other way. Forcing herself not to hug him too tightly, she smiled and asked, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
His eyes clouded, his little body stiffening as if he would pull away. It hurt that he still didn’t trust her enough to tell her what plagued his sleep, but the psychologist said he might never tell any of them exactly what had happened to him beyond the little bits and pieces that he came out with every now and then, like earlier tonight—although she could make a good guess from the state he’d been in when he’d been found and the X-rays that showed the clear evidence of past abuse.
She pushed that knowledge to the side now though—the fury that evidence of violence created didn’t belong here, now. ‘That’s okay,’ she said, voice soft, gentle. He snuggled in closer to her, as if that could make it all better. ‘Do you want another song?’ She’d sing all night if he wished.
‘Yes, please.’
‘What would you like to hear?’
‘Those ones Grumpy used to sing to you?’
‘Sure.’ So she sang the one her papa had written for her, ‘Blazing Star’ and then moved onto another couple he only ever sang for her and her mother—not his songs, but favourites all the same— ‘Some Enchanted Evening,’ and ‘Starry Starry Night’. By the time she’d finished, Carter’s head was heavy on her shoulder, his little body lax against hers, his chest rising and falling in the softness of sleep. She held him against her for a moment longer, then picked him up and rather than putting him back in his bed, went against the advice of the social workers and psychologists and took him into her own bed, holding him, unwilling in this moment to let him go. Not on this night that had always marked the anniversary of her birth, but also marked the anniversary of the night she’d lost nearly everything.
Chapter 8
Flynn swore as he put the phone down. That was just what he needed, to see Prita more often and not less. He had been prepared to see her again tonight at the BBQ for her birthday at Nat and Reid’s, but he hadn’t thought he’d need to see her earlier than that. But of course, she’d want to see Aaron to check up on him before they headed over to the barbie—she was a good doctor. Besides, Carter and Aaron were friends. Of course he’d want to come over and visit his friend when he was sick. That would be bad enough, except, apparently, she and Carter had been thinking up ways of keeping Aaron occupied so he didn’t re-injure his shoulder. Which was nice and all, but that meant they’d be around more often.
A picnic down at the creek later in the week sounded like a great idea—except for the fact Prita would be there.
A movie night was a good idea too—except for the fact Prita would be there.
A day going to Healesville Sanctuary was a great day outing—except for the fact Prita would be there. Well, maybe he could palm that off on his mum and Nat, but the others, he couldn’t escape from.
It was bad enough he’d be seeing her tonight in a social context. It was lovely that Carter wanted to spend time with Aaron so he wouldn’t get bored, but it all just seemed like extra torture he could do without.
Perhaps he could find some excuse to disappear early tonight. Maybe he’d ask Mac to call him and make some horse-related excuse where he’d have to run out to deal with it. Yeah. Maybe. Although, Mac would want to know why he had to leave the barbie early, and that was a discussion he didn’t want to have with the nosy bugger.
Think of the bright side.
He could still hear Anna’s oft-said phrase when things weren’t going his way. Somehow, she’d always managed to find some bright side in any situation, calming him down so he wouldn’t be so gloom and doom.
So what was the bright side in this situation?
Carter coming over and keeping Aaron occupied would hopefully cheer him up. That would be a good thing.
He scraped his hand through his hair. Right. Good. Now to tell Aaron. He plastered a smile on his face as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Aaron was sitting exactly where Flynn had left him after they’d had breakfast an hour ago, staring morosely at the cartoons playing on the TV. Although, this time, he was practically hidden by dog. ‘Charlie. Farrah. Get down.’
Aaron made a grab for Farrah as Charlie slunk off the couch and gave him sad-dog eyes. ‘Gran said I could have them in here with me.’
‘I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean on the couch.’
‘She didn’t say not on the couch.’
Flynn opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. ‘Good news. Doctor Brennan is coming over early to check on her favourite patient and she’s bringing Carter.’
‘When?’
‘They’ve got to go down to Traralgon to do some shopping after morning clinic, but they’ll be here about four, Prita expects. They’ve also got some great ideas to help keep you busy over the next few weeks.’
‘Really?’ Aaron looked up at him, eyes brightening.
‘Yeah. Although Carter wants to tell you, so don’t tell him I said anything.’
‘If she says it’s okay, can I go outside and play with the others tonight?’
‘I don’t think she’s going to say it’s okay, A-man. You know what the doctor said last night at the hospital. You’ve got to stay quiet and not run around so you don’t do any more damage to your shoulder.’
‘I didn’t think he meant I’d be stuck inside forever.’
‘It’s not forever, A-man. Just the first few days at least. Maybe a week. Then you can go outside.’
‘Can I go riding then?’
‘Absolutely not. We can’t chance you doing more damage.’
‘It’s not fair. I never fall off.’
‘Well, you did yesterday.’
‘Rebel bucked me.’
‘That’s what happens when you disobey the rules and try to ride horses you know aren’t ready to be ridden.’
Aaron’s lips tightened and he went back to staring at the TV, face set in that stubborn way that was purely his mother.
Crap. He’d said the wrong thing. Flynn rubbed his hand over his face, wishing he could just go outside and get on a horse and ride until the need to bellow had left his system. But he couldn’t do that. Instead, he was left here with his angry, sullen son, wondering why he always seemed to be saying and doing the wrong thing lately. The disagreement they’d had yesterday was one of the reasons Aaron had run out and tried to ride Rebel. Aaron had wanted to go riding by himself with Tilly, but Flynn had said he couldn’t because he wasn’t old enough. Aaron had yelled at him that age had nothing to do with being a good rider and he’d yelled something about maturity and the ability to recognise dangerous situations and deal with them—hell, he couldn’t even remember exactly what it was he’d said—but it had set Aaron off, yelling that he knew Flynn and Reid had gone out riding by themselves when they were his age and Flynn was such a hypocrite. Where he’d learned that word and how to use it, he didn’t know. Kids these days. They came to everything so much faster than when he was growing
up. He wasn’t entirely sure it was a good thing—particularly when he was so crap at dealing with a son who was as full of beans and mischief and stubbornness as Reid was when growing up.
‘What’s going on?’
He turned as Barb walked in, her knowing glance telling him she’d read the tension in the room. Good. Maybe she could help him deal with it. ‘Aaron’s a bit upset that he won’t be able to go outside and play with the kids.’
Barb sat on the couch next to Aaron and patted his knee. ‘I know it’s a bit shitty, Aaron, love, but it won’t be forever.’
‘It’s not fair.’
‘I’m sure Carter and Tilly will stay inside with you.’
‘They will.’ Flynn remembered what Prita had said. ‘Carter is going to bring his new Star Wars DVD and watch it with you. I’m sure Tilly will as well if you ask her.’
‘That will be nice.’ Barb tousled Aaron’s hair. ‘Won’t it, A-man?’
Aaron didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at the TV.
‘Aaron, don’t be rude. Answer your gran when she talks to you.’
Aaron’s lips pressed more tightly together.
‘It’s okay, love. He’s in pain and is out of sorts. I understand.’
Flynn sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He had no idea what to do with his ever increasingly sullen son. Maybe Barb was right—he should take Aaron on a holiday, and not one where he took him to visit Anna’s parents in Melbourne and left him there while he went out to conferences or horse sales or to visit other studs to chat to friends in the industry about breeding techniques and stock management. A proper holiday. Maybe to a beach somewhere.
He shuddered at that thought. Anna had always loved the beach. So probably not the beach. But somewhere other than the usual.
Before he could open his mouth to suggest it, his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he saw it was Mac. He sighed. Mac would be calling him about only one thing at this time of day. It had been a summer of stupid idiots going too fast down Old Mine Road at night, losing control on the corner and smashing through their fence, sometimes damaging the jumps course they’d set up there after Prita mentioned she’d done some gymkhana when she was younger. She didn’t often have time to go on bush rides, but she did like to come down and hop on Sherlock and put him through his paces. For all that she hadn’t done it in years, she was pretty good and hadn’t baulked at all when Reid and he had given her some tips.
‘Don’t tell me someone’s smashed through the fence line again on Old Mine Road.’ Mac was always the one to find the damage as he drove up from his property via that back road every day.
‘No. But someone’s set a camp fire out that way and left it still smouldering.’
‘What?’ His hand tightened on his phone as the word rang in the air around him. An untended camp fire was what started the big fires six years ago.
‘What is it?’ his mum asked.
‘Nothing.’ He managed to turn away and walk into the kitchen, fully aware of Barb’s scowl following him. He didn’t want to worry her or Aaron with this. When the heavy wood door swung closed behind him, heart racing in his chest, dread a thick heavy lump in his stomach, he asked, ‘Tell me?’
‘It’s okay. Ben and I saw the smoke from our window this morning and went down to check it out. Someone set up camp next to the brush jump but moved by the time we got there.’
It wasn’t the first time they’d caught campers using the jumps to tie a flat canvas to as a temporary shelter and usually he didn’t mind as long as they tidied up after themselves. But to set a camp fire in this heat and not look after it, especially with the fire danger warnings on high? ‘What’s the damage?’
‘The brush jump is gone but thankfully there was that spot of rain and no wind last night, so apart from some scorching of the grass around it, there’s no further damage. We got lucky.’
They had. So incredibly lucky. ‘We need to report it.’
‘Already done. Constable Bruce is on his way.’
‘I’ll just ask Mum to stay with Aaron and then I’ll be down too.’ He ended the call and only just managed to shove his phone back in his pocket before the avalanche hit him. ‘Shit.’ He leaned against the bench, a cold sweat prickling his neck and down his back, his fingers white where they clutched the edge while the world swung around him.
His legs disappeared from under him, but he held onto the bench, holding himself up, clenching his teeth against the panic and grief threatening to rise over him like a horrible black wave. Sweat ran down his temple, his neck, soaking his t-shirt as he tried desperately not to remember. Dragging in a breath, then another, he filled his head with hay bale count and the lists he made every day of the things he needed to do just to get through another one without Anna. ‘Stop, stop. Just stop.’ His whisper, a weak plea, made him so angry. Mercilessly, he roped in his control, eye on the door as breath shuddered in and out of his lungs. If he was gone too long, his sticky-beak of a mother would come in to see what was up. Please, don’t come in. Please. He couldn’t let Barb or Aaron see him like this. She couldn’t know that he was still affected this way. It had been six years ago, for Christ’s sake. He should be over this by now. When the fuck was he going to be over this? It was just so bloody ridiculous that the mention of a fire could drive him to memories that would make him so weak. He wanted to teach his son how to be strong, but how could he do that when this fear of bushfire turned him into a slobbering mess every single time?
Finally, the trembling and dizziness left and his breathing returned to almost normal. He shifted, uncomfortably aware of the sick-stickiness of sweat plastering his t-shirt to his chest and back, his hair to his forehead. Turning abruptly, he staggered over to the sink, turned it on and splashed water over his face. It was luke warm—the summer had been too damned hot and dry and they were on tank water—but it helped to get rid of the sweat. He splashed and splashed until the shaking had stopped and wiped his hands over his neck, taking care of the sweat there. He let himself out of the door into the hallway and practically stumbled to his room where he wiped away the rest of the fear-sweat, threw his t-shirt into the dirty clothes basket in the corner and then grabbed another dark blue one from the pile he hadn’t put away yet that was sitting on his dresser.
He stood for a moment, staring at himself in the mirror. Damn. His curly brown hair was limp and sweat-soaked. He didn’t have time to do anything about that now. He shoved his Akubra on his head. ‘You’ve got this.’ And he did. He’d hidden his secret shame for this long, there was no reason why anyone should suspect there was anything wrong with him this time either.
‘I’m heading out,’ he said as he walked back into the lounge room.
‘What is it, love?’ Barb and Aaron looked up at his entry, both of them rising to turn to face him.
He forced a smile to his face, waved them to sit down and lied through his teeth like he’d done so many times. ‘Nothing. Just stupid joy riders on Old Mine Road again.’
‘Bugger. I’ll get onto the council again about putting proper barriers on that corner between the road and our fences. Just because Reid has paid for the last few new fences doesn’t mean it’s okay.’
‘Mum, sit down. Mac and I’ll take care of it. Can you just stay here with Aaron?’
‘I don’t need a babysitter.’ His son’s lower lip pouted out in the same way his mother’s had when she didn’t get her way or was upset.
The resemblance made him look away, afraid Aaron might see the sadness welling inside him. ‘I know you don’t. But you know what the doctor said. Besides, you need more pain medication soon.’
‘Why don’t you and I go into the kitchen and make some of those choc-chip cookies with the fudgy centre to take to the barbie for dessert tonight? You know Doctor Prita loves those,’ Barb said. ‘You can lick the bowl.’
‘Can we make some extra so I can have one now straight out of the oven?’
‘Sure. I love them straight out of th
e oven too, all hot and gooey.’ She looked up at Flynn. ‘Maybe we’ll put some aside for your dad for later. They’re his favourite too.’
‘Okay.’ Aaron smiled tentatively back. ‘Maybe you could come back and have some morning tea with us?’
‘Sure. I’d love that.’
Barb patted Aaron’s knee. ‘Well in that case, we need to get onto making them now so your dad can get down to look at that fence and back in time for morning tea.’
‘Okay.’ Aaron stood and gave his dad a one-armed hug. ‘See you later?’
‘It’s a promise.’ One he would do everything to keep, no matter what else happened this morning.
Chapter 9
‘Damn it,’ Prita said, noting the time on the clock on the wall as they hurried in from the car. Clinic had run late then Diarmuid had called to wish her a happy birthday and then have a chat about the money for Carter and the relative making a claim. She wasn’t really interested—she and Carter didn’t need the money—but Diarmuid needed her permission, given she was guardian, for him and the lawyers to deal with the issue, so he was having them send her some documents. She hadn’t had time to write up her patient notes before they’d had to drive down to Traralgon to buy a collar for Machiavelli, get Carter’s hair cut and buy the fig salad she loved from a great cafe she’d discovered with Nat. Of course, they’d got caught up waiting at the barbers, then there’d been a mix up with her salad order and she’d had to wait for them to make it up for her, so the whole trip had taken longer than expected.
Did she have enough time to write up her patient notes like she’d planned before having to go to CoalCliff to check on Aaron when she said she would? She’d get a few done at least which would be something.
‘Carter, can you go and put the salad in the fridge, feed Maccy and then get your things together? I’ve just got a couple of things to do in the office and then we can go, okay?’
‘Okay, Mum.’
She’d just opened the file drawer in the reception area when someone knocked on the front door.
Blazing Fear Page 9