by Di Morrissey
9
The drive to the vet with a subdued Sam in the back felt to Ellie like a mercy dash, though she drove steadily. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t be sure the meat had been poisoned, but after the horrendous trolling and the unlikelihood of a strange hunk of odd-smelling meat just turning up in the garden, it seemed likely Patrick, and maybe even Ellie herself, were being targeted. How could anyone do such a thing to an animal? she wondered.
At the doorway Sam hung back, perhaps smelling the familiar scent of the clinic, and Ellie had to urge him inside. The vet, Richard, wearing a colourful smock printed with dancing bears, listened to Ellie’s explanation and then took Sam straight into the surgery and examined him.
‘He seems fine, which would suggest he hasn’t ingested anything harmful,’ Richard said to Ellie when he’d finished. ‘He might have licked the meat, but if he did, it doesn’t appear to have done any damage. However, you’ll need to watch him closely tonight, just in case.’ Richard turned to the meat in the plastic bag. ‘I’ll run some tests on this sample. From the odour, I’d say it’s deliberately poisoned bait.’ He patted Sam. ‘You’re lucky, old fella. Just as well you obey orders.’ He looked at Ellie. ‘If there’s poison present, I’ll have to report it to the police. Would anyone have a reason to do this?’ He raised his eyebrows.
Ellie shook her head slowly. ‘Of course, we all have our ups and downs with people, but I can’t think of any reason why someone would throw a poisoned lump of meat into our yard to intentionally harm an innocent pet. Thank goodness I was with Sam and stopped him from eating it,’ she said.
‘What about the Chronicle? Would someone want to get back at the paper for any reason?’
‘I just don’t understand how anyone could be that horrible. They don’t like something they read in the paper and so they try to poison our dog?’
Richard shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe somebody is trying to stop something going in the paper in the first place. Though I can’t recall anything like this happening in town before, not a deliberate bait. What did Patrick say?’
‘I haven’t told him yet. He was out walking when Sam found the meat. As soon as I realised what he was trying to eat, I drove Sam straight here. We’ll both need to be careful now.’
Darkness had fallen when Ellie arrived back at the house. She still felt rattled as she led Sam inside and closed the door after him. She could hear Patrick in his study,
but before going in to talk to him, Ellie went out and used the light on her phone to search the garden in case there were more baits. Looking around the spot where the meat had been, she concluded that someone had most likely driven or walked past and hurled it over the fence. They were surrounded by trees on a large block so their neighbours weren’t close enough to have witnessed anything.
Ellie wished she didn’t have to tell her grandfather this news as she could guess how upset he’d be. And his reaction proved her right.
‘What the hell!’ he said, quickly standing up from his desk. ‘Are you sure it was poison? Who in this community would do such a vile thing?’
‘Sam’s okay, Poppy. We’ve just come back from the vet. I wanted to get Sam to Richard as quickly as possible so I just got in the car and raced there. Richard’s testing the meat to find out what it is.’
Patrick sat back down slowly, suddenly looking old and a little frail, Ellie thought. She sat on the small sofa by the bookcase and took a deep breath.
‘I got such a fright, Poppy,’ she said softly.
‘You did very well, Poss. Probably saved Sam’s life . . .’ His voice trailed off. ‘We’ll get to the bottom of this,’ he said at last. ‘We just have to watch the old boy. Labs will eat anything, as you know.’
‘Why would someone do this? It’s so cruel.’
‘I don’t know, love. Perhaps it’s about the land development rumours. We haven’t published anything yet, but someone might not like us even sniffing around. But if that someone is so desperate to make a point, my bet is that they’ll inevitably show their hand. Let’s get on with things discreetly until we get more facts and can run with a story.’
Ellie went to bed but slept badly, reaching out in the night to pat Sam, who was curled up by her side. He was in a deep sleep, twitching and making small noises, chasing rabbits or seagulls in his dreams, Ellie thought, and smiled.
She got up early and checked around the garden again before calling Sam for a morning run along the beach. As soon as she opened the car door, he jumped into the back seat and they headed off. Ellie was very relieved to see that her old mate seemed as healthy as ever.
The wind was up, the surf churning, and the sand flew in stinging little gusts. Sam looked like he was enjoying the challenge of the biting breeze. He bounded along the water’s edge, stopping to sniff at some seaweed and a dead fish.
Ellie thought back to her old life, as she had begun to refer to it, even though it was such a short time ago. Mentally she ran through her days at work; the pressure of deadlines and meetings, the long hours as she lost track of time, night or day, keeping on top of what her team was doing as well as her own jobs, managing the constraints of budgets and timeframes. The socialising where they only talked shop and rarely seemed to venture below the surface to discuss anything really important or interesting. A meal in a nearby café or restaurant on her own or with Mike. Going to parties at Julie’s insistence, where she usually left alone at the end of the night. Returning home to her quiet, compact apartment where she hardly ever cooked and never entertained. And where, inevitably, she’d find herself sitting at her laptop, answering emails while drinking a glass of wine, the unwatched television murmuring in the background for company. Pretending to friends she had a lover.
Though she liked her small rented apartment, Ellie had long been considering buying a flat in Fitzroy. But deep down, if she was honest with herself, she knew she was hoping for something else, and that had always stayed her hand. In a moment of clarity, as she stopped still on the beach, she realised she’d been like this for many years. She’d been waiting for something as time had gone by . . . but what was it?
Sam nudged her, holding a stick, his tail wagging.
‘Clever boy. Okay, go fetch!’ Ellie flung it as a happy Sam raced after it. And she started to jog after him along the sand.
She was picking up a good pace when her phone rang. Pulling it out of her pocket, she saw that the call was from an unfamiliar number. As she slowed down, she caught her breath and then answered.
‘Hello?’
‘Ellie?’
She froze. This was a voice from another life. Another planet.
‘Ellie, it’s Roger.’
‘Yes. Hello, Roger.’ She paused, wondering if she should tell her former boss that she knew Sophia had been fired. But he saved her the trouble.
‘I suppose you may have heard that we had to let Sophia go.’
‘I’m down in the country, Roger.’ She settled on a deliberately obtuse comment so she didn’t have to give away what news she’d heard from her old work.
‘Oh, I see. A holiday?’ He hesitated for a few seconds, then went on, ‘I’ll cut to the chase. We’d like you to come back, Ellie. I apologise for the hasty way in which we acted, and it appears we were rather misinformed.
Could you meet me for a chat? Lunch, perhaps? Just to talk; no need to commit to anything yet.’
Ellie felt her head starting to spin as a range of emotions swirled through her: satisfaction, surprise, excitement, reluctance, sadness, indecision. She had no idea how she really felt about this so she took a moment before replying.
‘Roger, thank you for the call. Do you mind if I digest this and ring you back? I’m in the middle of a project with my grandfather’s newspaper –’
‘Of course, I understand this comes slightly out of the blue, but we would value having your expertise back in the company,
Ellie. I can offer a very generous remuneration. Call me when it’s convenient, say in a day or so? Take care, goodbye.’
He hung up and Ellie gritted her teeth. Typical of the man and the way in which he ran the company to demand that she jump up and down, work to his timeframe and do it right now. He hadn’t even let her finish her sentence! Well, she’d let him wait a while.
Ellie took a deep breath. She felt as though her life was starting to tip upside down again, and the trolling and the attempt to poison beloved Sam had her more rattled than she cared to admit. And now this: what was she going to do about Roger’s offer? She was torn between elation at Roger having to eat humble pie and invite her back into the company, and the niggling thought that she wasn’t actually as excited about the prospect as she once might have been. The events in Storm Harbour seemed more real to her, more important, than she had realised.
As Sam dashed back over to her and licked her hand, she thought again about the poisoned meat. The dog would have been the victim of an act that was presumably meant to unnerve and threaten Ellie or her grandfather, or both of them. But why?
It suddenly occurred to her that someone might have seen her talking to Russ, the council source. Maybe she’d better tell him what had happened, just in case.
She rang his number.
‘Hello?’
‘Do you know who this is?’ asked Ellie.
‘Yes. I do.’
‘Is it convenient to speak at the moment? Or just listen to me? I won’t be long.’
‘Yes. Go ahead.’
‘Someone attempted to poison my grandfather’s dog after I met with you. I don’t know if it’s connected but I thought I should let you know. It’s possible someone saw us together.’
‘I appreciate that. Thanks for letting me know. I do hope all is well with you,’ he said politely, and Ellie realised he was not alone.
‘The dog is okay, but I feel I’m being frightened off. And it’s working.’
‘That’s unfortunate. Do keep me updated.’
‘And could you keep me updated too?’ said Ellie.
‘Thank you for calling.’ Russ hung up, but Ellie knew he’d got the message.
She put a damp, sandy Sam in the car and drove through the awakening town, cruising down Susan’s street on her way home. Ellie noticed that the same car – a small, white sedan – was parked near Susan’s house. As she drove towards it, she saw the same woman she’d seen the other day sitting behind the wheel, watching the house intently. As Ellie drove by, she was sure the woman glanced at her then turned away.
At home, Ellie made a cup of coffee while going back over Roger’s phone call in her mind. Her first instinct was to ring Mike, but she already knew what he’d say: that it was her decision. She needed to think through her options, the pluses and the minuses.
She paused. What made her think there’d be a minus? she asked herself. The offer was flattering and she felt vindicated. Her team, if they were still all there, would be thrilled if she returned, she knew. She could move back and settle into her life in Melbourne again.
So why did she feel so confused and conflicted?
Ellie wanted to talk to her grandfather. She knew that, like Mike, her parents would say it was her choice and they’d support whatever decision she made. But Patrick would speak his mind.
She tried to be objective about it. Had she become so wrapped up in the minutiae of life in a small town that a move back to the city might do her good? But then, when she thought about it, the city was a series of small communities too; the interplay of personalities in the office, the people in her apartment building and neighbourhood, her circle of city friends. Yes, there was the opportunity to meet new people all the time in the city but, equally, fostering deep and true friendships there was not so easy. Everyone was scattered around the city, always in a hurry, and social occasions were generally conducted in crowded places. She knew most of her acquaintances there only superficially through other friends or her work; she had little idea of their family life, their backgrounds, what they did away from each other, nor they her. Most people seemed too busy to form close friendships in the workplace.
The cohesiveness of the community in Storm Harbour felt very different. Look how the people of the town had come together, bonding over the search for the missing boy. But then, of course, someone had tried to hurt Sam . . .
Ellie finished her coffee, rinsed her mug and headed down to the Chronicle office, deep in thought.
She walked into the back office and paused as she looked at Maggie peering over her glasses rather than through them while she studied her computer screen. Jon waved at her and leaned back in his chair, schmoozing someone on the phone. Patrick’s voice, strong and determined, came from his small office.
As if experiencing the office anew since her conversation with Roger, Ellie noticed that there was no longer the smell of lead and ink from a printing press, nor the chemical smell from the darkroom where they’d once printed photographs from film before the space was repurposed as a kitchenette. But the piles of files, the old framed photographs and front-page posters going back decades all testified that this was still a place that produced a newspaper. A newspaper that had served and supported, fought for and celebrated its community for decades. And would continue to do so.
Patrick had breathed new life into a fading institution all those years ago and, now in a new era, local independent newspapers were coming to the fore as a reliable source of information. Communities were starting to realise that it was up to them to fight for, support and promote their papers. As Patrick kept saying, ‘If we don’t look after ourselves and fight for our community, no one else will, because no one will know what’s going on!’
As he bade farewell to an irksome caller and jabbed the button on his phone, Patrick looked up. ‘Hey there, Poss,’ he said to Ellie as she walked in. ‘How was the beach?’ She could tell he was studying her. ‘What’s up? Is Sam okay?’
‘Yes, he’s fine. Sleeping off a big run. I locked him inside the house when I left so he’ll be safe.’
‘What’s bothering you, then?’
‘Well, a few things, actually. One especially.’
His eyes narrowed as she sat down opposite. ‘Spill the beans.’
‘My old boss rang while I was down at the beach. He offered me my old job back.’
Patrick didn’t react, but he leaned forward, elbows on his desk. ‘And?’
‘I don’t know what to do.’ Ellie sighed. ‘I mean, I’m feeling vindicated, of course. He admitted they’d been misinformed.’
‘Did they offer more money?’
‘We didn’t get that far but he hinted at it. He wants me to go and meet him for lunch.’
‘Why not a meeting in his office? Sounds more professional to me.’
‘I assume he doesn’t want anyone to hear anything about it yet. Especially if he’s going to offer me a higher wage.’
‘Puts you in a strong bargaining position, doesn’t it? So . . .?’ Patrick stretched back and folded his arms behind his head. ‘Now you have this offer in your back pocket, could you look for work with another company? Go out and sell yourself?’
‘I suppose so, if that’s what I want to do,’ Ellie said.
‘How long do you have to shop around before giving him an answer?’
‘In his usual pushy, aggressive way, Roger will be expecting my answer within a day or so.’
‘Well, tell him to cool his heels. If he wants you, the whole city does too. Write your own ticket, Ellie.’
‘Maybe. It’s just . . . I’m not sure what I want. All I know for certain right now is that I’d hate to leave you and Sam, especially after finding the bait in the garden. Sam’d have to be locked up all day when no one’s home. It wouldn’t be fair on him.’
‘You’re right, we’ll have to keep Sam out
of the garden as best we can for now. I know – I’ll put up outdoor lights and a camera,’ said Patrick firmly.
‘Even that wouldn’t be foolproof, Poppy. Someone could still fling a bait into the garden or drive past and toss a lump of poisoned meat out the car window without being seen. It’s just terrible.’
‘Then I’ll bring Sam to work with me. He’d be happy as a clam in here with so much company. Put a bed under the desk for him. At least until we find out who’s behind this despicable act.’
Ellie felt a rush of relief. ‘Yes. Good idea. So do you think it was a one-off, Poppy? A warning? Or do you think they might try again?’
‘I just don’t know, love. I reported it to the police this morning, though.’
‘What did they say?’ Ellie asked.
‘Not much, really. They were sorry it happened, but there isn’t much they can do about it,’ Patrick said. ‘Now then, back to your dilemma, love.’
‘Well, I have to do something, my holiday funds are running out.’ Ellie tried to smile.
‘Is that what this has been? A holiday jaunt?’ asked Patrick quietly.
‘No, not at all,’ Ellie was quick to exclaim. ‘I guess I was just trying to make light of it. You have no idea what being here has done for me, Poppy. I love living with you and Sam, and I feel like I’m part of the town now. I’ve made friends here and I enjoy writing for the paper.’
Patrick leaned back. ‘That’s good. It’ll be yours one day. And the old house. You can sell that, of course. I won’t be around to break my heart over it. But I wouldn’t like to see the Chronicle disappear.’
‘Poppy! Don’t say that,’ she burst out, her eyes filling with tears. ‘You’re going to be around for ages and ages. And I promise you, the Chronicle will never stop coming out on my watch! I promise you, no matter what. Besides, you’re not going anywhere.’ The events of the past few days suddenly overwhelming her, Ellie started to cry.
Patrick got up, came around his desk and wrapped his arms around his granddaughter.
‘Hey, Miss Media Mogul, settle down. We have plenty of time to plan things. I’ve been meaning to tell you, I joined the gym. The old folks’ weights program. I fling dumbbells around. I’m going to live forever. Now I