The Secrets that Lie Within (Taylor's Bend, #1)

by Elisabeth Rose

  ‘Thanks. I will.’ She threw Dot a titbit. ‘My daughter’s here for a few days.’

  Before Dot could gather her wits to fire off another barrage of questions, Abbie waved and was outside on the footpath.

  ‘Sorry I took so long,’ she said as she closed the car door.

  ‘What were you doing in there?’

  ‘Dot and Laurie who run the place like to chat. They’re both about eighty and everybody loves them.’

  Georgia snickered. ‘Couple of old gossips.’

  ‘Absolutely. If you want to know what’s going on in town, go there. Dot said the local orchardist had her tyres slashed the other night.’

  ‘By the possum shooter?’

  ‘Don’t know.’

  ‘How close is the orchard?’

  ‘Twenty k’s past my turn-off.’

  ‘That’s a fair way.’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Probably kids.’

  ‘Maybe. That’s what the police think.’

  The house sat serenely in its surroundings when the car crested the rise at the end of the driveway.

  ‘Looks okay,’ said Georgia, voicing Abbie’s thoughts.

  ‘I’m sure it is.’

  ‘Aren’t you even a bit scared?’

  ‘I’d feel happier if the phone line was fixed but no, not really.’ No way was she telling Georgia about the cold, paralysing fear that gripped her last night. ‘And Jet’s here to protect us.’

  ‘I won’t be here for long. I have to get back to work. Exams are coming up.’

  ‘I know.’

  Jet stood on the verandah, staring at Georgia’s car as it approached, her barking audible even through the closed windows.

  ‘See?’ Abbie said. ‘She’s a good guard.’

  ‘Hope her bite’s worse than her bark.’

  ‘I hope we don’t have to find out.’

  But nothing happened that evening. Georgia made salad while Abbie cut potatoes into wedges to have with the steaks she’d bought.

  ‘You need to keep your iron levels up,’ she’d told Georgia in the supermarket. ‘And I’ll get salmon fillets as well in case you’re still here tomorrow. Fish is good for you.’

  ‘Don’t fuss.’

  She didn’t say she wouldn’t be staying after tomorrow though. Good. They had talking to do.

  Abbie fed Jet then let her off the lead to run about before bringing her inside. She showed no inclination to head for her home, but raced around enthusiastically investigating the new smells in Abbie’s front and backyards. Abbie watered the vegetables, surmising when the lettuces would be ready to pick. Not long by the look. Tim said she should plant more at a few weeks interval so she’d have a continuous supply, but there was a limit to the number of lettuces one person could eat per week.

  Jet suddenly stopped running to stop and stare fixedly towards Rita’s. A low growl emerged and the hair on her neck rose. Abbie turned off the hose and stared in the same direction. Nothing. A narrow stretch of open tussocky paddock led to their common fence and the thick bush on Rita’s property. The sun had sunk behind the hills but the light was still bright enough to see a person if they were in the open or moving.

  ‘What’s up? What can you see?’

  Jet turned her head to Abbie momentarily, then barked. A different sound to the one she’d used when Abbie and Georgia came home. This bark was angry, a warning. A chill rippled through Abbie’s body, making her own hair stand up on her neck. She swallowed and retreated to the house, within reach of the back door.

  Just as abruptly as she’d begun, Jet stopped barking. She turned and walked across to the water bowl Abbie had put down under the tap for the birds, lapping and slurping thirstily.

  ‘Come on, inside.’

  Jet hesitated but followed Abbie in cautiously, sniffing as she went.

  ‘Good girl.’

  She trotted about the kitchen and work area, nose working overtime, disappeared down the hallway, claws clicking on the wooden floor.

  ‘Shoo, dog. Get out of my room.’ Georgia’s voice, but she wasn’t angry.

  ‘Shall I start cooking?’ called Abbie.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  While they ate, Jet lay by the back door, too well trained to beg but obviously tantalised by the smell of cooked meat.

  ‘What was she barking at before?’ asked Georgia.

  ‘I don’t know, probably a kangaroo or something.’

  ‘Are there kangaroos?’

  ‘Sometimes. They come down from the bush up the back.’

  ‘Did you see one?’

  ‘No, but it was getting dark.’ Why was she explaining away the barking? Jet hadn’t barked the way she would at a kangaroo and she wouldn’t feel threatened by one. She’d want to chase it, the way she would a rabbit. Tim had said she loved doing that. Chasing and rounding up animals was bred into her over generations. ‘It might have been a snake.’

  ‘A snake?’ Georgia pulled a face.

  ‘Maybe. They’re starting to move around now it’s getting warmer.’

  ‘Oh, great. I suppose you have redback spiders, too.’

  ‘Probably, but not in the house. Not that I’ve seen.’

  ‘I’d be more worried about the wildlife than the prowler. There’s only one of them.’

  Abbie smiled. ‘I doubt he or she will be back. Whoever it is doesn’t go back to the same place.’ That seemed logical even though Rupe hadn’t said it. He certainly didn’t say someone in particular had been the focus. ‘Random vandalism.’

  ‘I guess young people get bored living out here.’

  ‘That’s no excuse.’

  ‘No, but it’s a reason.’

  ‘I suppose that applies to all vandals. Bored, pointless destruction.’

  ‘Sometimes it has a target. Religious or political reasons or someone with a grudge.’

  ‘That’s true, but I don’t think this one has a reason beyond stupidity.’ She spoke with a degree of certainty but underneath doubt squirmed.

  ‘Mum, do you think I should keep this baby?’

  Abbie froze mid-chew, but finishing the mouthful and swallowing gave her time to put together her thoughts.

  ‘I’m not anti-abortion, you probably already know that—I wasn’t going to say anything but since you’ve asked—if it was me, I would keep it. I doubt I would ever have an abortion unless it was for some extreme medical reason. But you’re not me and I understand that it’s a very, very hard decision.’ She paused waiting for some response or comment. Nothing. ‘How do you feel deep down? Apart from all the other issues and problems that might come up.’

  Georgia arranged her knife and fork on her empty plate and exhaled, long and slow.

  ‘I think I’d like to keep it but I’m scared.’ Her eyes flashed up to meet Abbie’s.

  ‘It is scary being responsible for another little life. But you won’t be alone, darling. I’ll be there—and Susan—and your friends.’

  ‘But you live way out here.’

  ‘You could stay with me when the baby’s born until you feel you can manage on your own.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Not an outright refusal, which was encouraging.

  ‘There are always solutions.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Susan would definitely help, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘Except she doesn’t live in Melbourne and I don’t want to move to Newcastle.’

  Abbie hid the relief. Susan, so far, had been the first option. ‘I can move easily. I could come and stay with you for a while.’

  ‘No, you couldn’t. I’m in a group house with other students. It’s a dump.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have finished your degree by the time the baby’s born and you could do your Master’s living here, or put off starting for a year or so. There are plenty of options. You could do it online as much as you can and I could mind the bub if you have to go to lectures.’

  ‘What about your work?’

  ‘I’d cope. Darling, what
I’m saying is we can figure this out. If you want to keep your baby there are ways we can manage. If you don’t, that’s your decision and I won’t interfere. I’ll support you whatever you decide.’

  Georgia wiped her eyes quickly and sniffed. ‘Stupid. I start crying at anything these days.’

  Abbie stood up, resisting the urge to run around the table to hug her daughter and risk undoing the progress she’d made. ‘I know. Your hormones are rioting. Let’s have dessert.’

  ***

  Abbie woke the next morning from a deep, refreshing sleep. No noises in the night, no unexplained pains or vomiting. Jet hadn’t uttered a peep. Georgia was still asleep when, showered and dressed, she let the dog out into the crisp morning. The sun was well up, shining brightly and promising warmth, with no clouds to mar the perfect blue.

  Abbie leaned on the verandah railing watching Jet race about sniffing before finding a good spot to relieve herself. Away from the path and house over by the first of the gum trees, luckily.

  ‘Come on, girl. Breakfast,’ she called when Jet had begun her investigations again, and the dog bounded across the yard. Abbie clipped the chain to her collar and patted her head. ‘Good girl.’

  She fetched Jet’s food and refilled her water dish. It’s a pity the poor thing had to stay tied up but Tim wasn’t sure she’d stay put otherwise, and it wouldn’t be for long. A dog of her own would be great. She’d definitely find one, not just as a guard dog but as company. There must be a pet refuge in Wagga if no-one local had a spare pup.

  Abbie went inside to make herself a cup of tea. She’d be able to do some work before Georgia got up.

  An hour later, the unmistakeable sounds of retching broke her concentration. Morning sickness. Hideous. She’d had the same every morning for two months. Abbie put her brush down and went to offer sympathy and help, but met Georgia in the hallway.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Apart from vomiting up my guts, yes.’

  Abbie nodded. ‘I remember, it’s horrible. But it should ease off.’

  ‘Did you throw up with me?’

  ‘Yes, every morning for two months. But each woman is different,’ she added hastily. ‘And every pregnancy is different.’

  Georgia grunted. She went to the kitchen cupboard for a glass and rinsed her mouth with water.

  ‘I have some dry crackers, or perhaps some toast would help. It’s better to have something in your stomach. I found ginger ale was really good.’

  ‘We don’t have any.’ Georgia slumped at the table. ‘I feel bloody awful.’

  ‘I should have thought of it yesterday. I can easily go in and get some and a supply of these.’ She took the packet of crackers from the pantry and put them in front of Georgia. ‘Have one.’

  ‘In a while.’

  ‘Will you be okay if I go now?’

  ‘You don’t need to go this instant.’

  ‘I might as well.’

  ‘If you want. I’m going back to bed.’

  ‘I’ll lock the doors when I leave. Be about forty-five minutes.’

  Georgia hauled herself up, and with the packet of crackers in one hand and a glass of water in the other, went back to her room. Abbie bustled about tidying up her paintbrushes, checking the back door, finding her keys, purse and a shopping bag, then called goodbye as she headed for the car.

  Rupe walked into Laurie’s store while she was paying for the emergency supplies and the newspaper.

  ‘G’day Abbie, thought that was your car outside,’ he said with one of his slow smiles.

  ‘Hello. How are things? Any more prowler reports?’ She had to stop fixating on his lips or he’d think she was fantasising about … she was.

  ‘No. Everything fine out your way?’

  ‘Yes, no problems. Nice quiet night. Had the best sleep I’ve had all week.’

  ‘How about your daughter, Abbie? How’s she liking it here?’ Laurie leaned on the counter in his settling-in-for-a-good-gossip position. ‘She’s a pretty girl.’

  ‘How do you know what she looks like? You haven’t seen her, have you?’ Abbie looked from Laurie to Rupe.

  Rupe smiled. ‘You two were spotted in town yesterday.’

  ‘Dot told me,’ said Laurie.

  ‘Dot didn’t see her either.’

  ‘She was in the car right outside the window while you popped in for the mail.’

  ‘Of course, what was I thinking?’ Eagle-eyed Dot wouldn’t miss a thing, and here she was thinking she’d given Dot a new piece of information. No doubt she already knew all about Georgia by the time Abbie appeared in the shop—it had taken all of ten minutes to finish shopping, pack the groceries from the supermarket into the car and drive to Laurie and Dot’s. Plenty of time for news to travel the few hundred metres along the street.

  ‘You should bring her in so we can meet her.’

  ‘I will, but she may not stay very long and she’s not feeling too good this morning, hence these.’ She indicated the crackers.

  ‘Maybe she has what Rita has,’ said Rupe.

  ‘Maybe. I’d better get home. Thanks, Laurie.’ At least that bit of news hadn’t leaked yet.

  Rupe followed her out to her car. ‘Is it the flu?’

  Abbie shook her head. ‘She threw up this morning.’

  Rupe frowned. ‘You think she ate something off like you did? Something in your house?’

  ‘No, definitely not.’

  ‘How can you be so sure? You thought you’d been poisoned. If there’s contaminated food or some other issue it should be checked out.’

  ‘It’s not, Rupe, it’s different. And I haven’t been sick again. It was a once-off.’

  ‘Maybe I should come out and take a look around.’

  ‘Rupe, it’s morning sickness.’ Georgia would kill her if she knew she’d told someone, but if she was keeping the baby it wasn’t something she could hide for long, especially if she came to stay. And Rupe wasn’t a gossip.

  ‘Oh, congratulations.’

  ‘Hmm. Thanks. It explains why she came to see me, but she’s in two minds about it.’

  ‘Needed her mum.’

  Abbie smiled. ‘Seems that way.’

  ‘That’s good. Do you know the father?’

  ‘No, she won’t say who it is. She hasn’t told him either.’

  ‘That’s not fair.’ His reaction was spontaneous. Surprisingly adamant. Had he been in a similar situation?

  ‘That’s what I said but …’

  ‘It’s her decision.’

  ‘Yes, and our relationship isn’t such that I can press too hard. I can help her with the baby. I’d love that.’

  ‘Yes, kids are good.’ Sadness edged his voice.

  She had to squint up at him, the morning sun catching her in the eyes so she raised her hand to block it out. ‘There’s still time, Rupe,’ she said awkwardly. ‘For you.’

  He gave a tiny shrug. ‘I don’t know.’

  Abbie trawled her mind for a new, less touchy subject.

  ‘Was that true about no prowler activity?’

  ‘I don’t lie to people as a rule, I’m an upholder of the law.’

  ‘I know. Sorry, I didn’t mean …’

  He laughed softly. ‘I know what you meant. You were talking about the possum shooter.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Word gets around, Abbie, remember? Tim and Connie knew about it and they had no reason not to tell people. You’ve borrowed their dog,’

  ‘I keep forgetting. Secrecy becomes a habit. I’m still not used to people knowing … things about me.’

  ‘Someone leaving a dead possum on your step is hardly a secret you need to keep. Is it?’

  ‘It seems so personal. Don’t you think?’

  ‘Aimed at you specifically?’

  ‘Yes, it’s obvious.’

  ‘Is it?’

  Why was he being so obtuse? He was there, he knew all the other odd things that had happened to her recently.

  ‘Georgia’s
home on her own, Rupe. I’d better go.’ She paused with her hand on the car door handle. ‘Do me a favour, please?

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Give the phone company a hurry up for me. It’s ridiculous that the line’s not fixed yet. Tell them it’s urgent and a matter of life and death.’

  ‘I hope it isn’t.’ He smiled. ‘They won’t believe that.’

  ‘Well, try. Please?’

  ***

  Rupe walked back to the station and got straight onto the phone company, or as immediately as anyone ever was. Forty minutes, in his case. Eventually he was put through to someone who assured him a team was scheduled for the day after next. Wednesday.

  ‘If the gate to the property is locked, they’ll have to climb over and walk in to the house.’

  ‘The property owner will have to provide access or they can’t do the job. Make sure the gate is open.’

  ‘All right. Any particular time she can expect them?’

  ‘When they turn up.’

  He’d have to drive out and let her know.

  As soon as he put the phone down, it rang. A truck had hit a car head-on ten k’s out of town. He was closest, get out there asap, the Willoughby ambulance was on another call so the one coming from Bindubi would be half an hour. Doc Jensen was on his way.

  Rupe scrambled.

  The truck driver had called the emergency number. He was in shock, sitting by the roadside, white-faced but otherwise uninjured; the occupants of the car weren’t so lucky. Joe and Lucy Bygrave had turned up just after the crash and were doing what they could for the couple in the smashed Holden but the doors were obviously jammed shut. Lucy was leaning in a broken window with a hand towel, wiping blood from the woman’s face.

  Rupe swallowed, sighed, drew a deep breath and got out as the doc’s car pulled up behind him.

  Chapter 10

  Georgia was in the kitchen with a cup of tea when Abbie returned. She fetched another mug and poured while Abbie stacked the biscuit packets in the pantry and put the ginger ale in the fridge.

  ‘Thanks, Mum. You didn’t need to rush off and get that stuff, you know.’

  ‘I know but it’s fine. We won’t need to go out again.’

  ‘It’s very quiet here.’

  ‘That’s why I love it.’ Aaron’s oddly unsettling remark popped into her head—no-one can hear you scream. What a strange young man he was.