Retribution: Who would you kill to escape your past?

by Diane Demetre

  “No, you go ahead. I’ll jump in after you.”

  He gathered his things and headed for the bathroom. After a scorching hot shower, he felt brand new dressed in clean jeans, shirt and tan boots. “It’s all yours.”

  “Thanks…” She barrelled from her bedroom with an armful of clothes before disappearing into the bathroom.

  Inhaling deeply, he strolled out onto the veranda. “Come on, Whiskey. Let’s get your gear and give you some dinner.” He strode down the steps, his dog dancing by his side.

  An inky black night had descended on Coodravale. It reminded him of his tours in the desert. His senses sharpened. A dry wind gusted up the Wee Jasper Valley and swirled around the homestead, interrupting the silence. BJ hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, ears pricked by the eerie whoosh of the wind. He called Whiskey to heel, and she lifted her nose into the wind’s direction. His heart rate quickened while he waited for any of his dog’s tell-tale signs of concern—a low growl, a strain for release or a rigid body of alert. Instead, she rested at his side, attentive to his next command. Reassured, he stepped off. With the outline of the homestead barely visible, only the white veranda railings gave depth to the chilling darkness. The crunch of the gravel underfoot guided them along the way as he and Whiskey strolled to the car.

  Grabbing her gear, he said, “Here you go, girl. I’ve got your bed and food, so let’s get you sorted.”

  “Ah, that’s better.”

  BJ turned his head towards the French doors where Jessie stood, white wine bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. She was barefoot, dressed in blue jeans and a floating cotton shirt; she looked refreshed and relaxed and smelled of soap.

  He eyed the bottle in approval. “Now that’s a good idea. Here, let me open it.” Taking it, he poured the wine and handed a glass to her with a “cheers”.

  “So what do you think of Coodravale?” She slipped into one of the regency-striped wingback chairs on the veranda, curling her legs beneath her like a swami.

  “It’s a pretty place from the little I saw today. Whiskey and I are keen to get a better look at it tomorrow in full daylight.” Before pulling the other chair closer to the railing, he glanced at her. “Do you mind if I put my feet up?”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  Once positioned, he folded into the chair and hoisted his feet on the railing. With his legs stretched before him and Whiskey by his side, he settled in for a few minutes of pre-dinner R & R.

  A movement caught his attention, and he glanced over as Jessie upended the bottle. Although he had plenty left, he noticed her glass was already empty. She refilled hers, swallowed a long gulp and replaced the bottle. Slugging back the booze. Tonight’s family dinner will be fun. His lips tightened.

  “So, how are you feeling after everything that’s happened?” He kept his voice easy, his tone light.

  “I’m fine. That sleep I grabbed in the car certainly helped.”

  “Good to hear.” Grappling with his next course of action, he resigned himself to living dangerously. “Jessie…”

  She turned to face him, her eyes wide in child-like wonder. “Yes?”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? A lot has happened. Last night you got a call about your father having a stroke. You race home to find your unit’s been broken into; someone has left you a sick love letter on your bed and stolen some of your underwear. Today we drive to Yass so you can visit your father in hospital. Then we arrive here to a frosty greeting by your mother. Now you’re throwing back the wine before you have to go in for a family dinner. Maybe you want to slow down a little, talk about it?”

  She glared at him. “You know what? I never asked you to drive me here. I could have done it myself. But it was very kind of you to offer. And thank you for all the other help you’ve given this past week. But it doesn’t give you the right to judge me, or to pry into my feelings. I don’t need to talk about anything, and I don’t need you judging my drinking habits.”

  Terminated. He’d been shot down with little warning and minimal fuss. She’d make a bloody fine sniper. Careful to restrain the amused tilt of his lips, he narrowed his focus.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. But you’ve had a few unusual shocks over the past twenty-four hours. I just thought you might like to talk about it. My apologies.” He scratched the back of his neck and waited.

  She responded with a tense harrumph.

  Although the gold flecks in her hazel eyes flashed in annoyance, she pursed her lips, turned her head and sipped her wine. At least, she’s sipping. That’ll do. It was better to win the battle than lose the war, so he said no more.

  Chapter 18

  Another dump of a place. Crappy carpet, grimy microwave and a bathroom that doesn’t look like it’s seen a lick of disinfectant since Adam was a boy. If my mother was here, she’d whip the motel housekeepers into shape. Best Eastern Motel, my arse. If this is the best Yass has to offer, then more fool them. Anyway, it’ll have to do. It’s not costing me much. I’ll lay low here for a while and work out the rest of my plan. Let’s see if this Guide to the Yass Valley or any of the tourist maps I collected at reception help. There it is. I go along the tourist drive on Wee Jasper Road and keep going a bit further to Coodravale. How easy is that?

  God, I get hard just thinking about it. Soon I’ll have my dancer all to myself. Right. Time for a little recon’ work. Just like I did with her unit. Get in and get out. Maybe leave a calling card. I’ll give it a few hours. Wait ’til they’re asleep. I’ve even got time to write another poem. I bet my dancer loves my poems.

  Wonder if the TV in this dump works? Maybe The Bachelor is on? God, there’s some good-looking women on there. Not as good as my dancer, though. She’s got real style and class. Why don’t these motel remote controls ever work? Probably needs new batteries. Nope. There we go. How lucky is that. Now what station is it on? There it is. I’ll stretch out on the bed for a bit. Mmm…not too hard and not too soft. Just right. Like Goldilocks. Geez, I’m a crack up. Oh-oh, look at her. Blonde hair, fake tits and goldfish lips. She thinks she’s hot shit, but she’s an ice maiden that one. Bet she’d just lay there like a starfish, cold and limp.

  I bet my dancer’s no starfish. I bet she bucks and sucks and hollers like a rodeo princess. Every time I think of her, I get hard, but I don’t dare touch myself. I’m keeping myself only for her. It won’t be long now…

  Chapter 19

  As Jessie examined the room, every feature held some kind of memory. Crafted from tongue-and-grooved timber, the walls were painted a pale mint green and topped by high ornate cream ceilings. Her mother’s tireless research had assured the authentic colour palette, despite her father’s aversion to green. Many a debate had ended in a showdown between her parents over it. From the picture rail skirting hung sepia-coloured prints of men on horseback at muster, sheep droving along the Murrumbidgee and turn-of-the-century homesteads built in the Wee Jasper Valley. All collected by her father on his many excursions to garage sales. When Jessie was a little girl he’d spent hours framing and hanging them, while she handed him nails. Although her mother cleaned like a tyrant, the familiar smell of old timber and stale dust lingered in the air. It was probably due to the tired tapestry rug that lay claim to the wheezing dark timber floors. She wondered why her mother kept the rug at all. Furnished with an impressive Tasmanian oak dining table, eight chairs and two side boards, Coodravale’s main dining room existed in a time warp.

  Little had changed over the years. Unlike Richard, who’d transformed since their arrival. Now wearing tight black jeans, polished snakeskin boots and a clinging black T-shirt, he no longer looked like a vagabond. She couldn’t understand why her brother chose to dress so outlandishly for a small family dinner. But then again, there was a lot about Richard she didn’t understand.

  “So Richard, Mum tells me you’re nearly finished your accountancy course. What do you plan on doing then?” She gave her brother a slight smile while flicking the pressed cream damask n
apkin onto her lap. She hoped tonight’s dinner would be civil.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get a job with Tom. I’m not sure.”

  “He’s our cousin who lives in Perth,” explained Jessie to BJ, who sat across the table.

  “This is not the time to be making plans. We’ll have to wait and see how your father recovers before you go leaving Coodravale.” Closing the topic with a decisive nod, Joanna turned her attention to Jessie with a silent directive to commence serving. Lifting the platter of sliced roast lamb and vegetables, she offered it around the table. “So, what is it you do for a living, Brad?”

  “At the moment, I work for a builder friend.” He forked three slices of lamb and two spoons of vegetables onto his dinner plate. Remembering how much he’d eaten for breakfast that morning, Jessie frowned at his meagre portion. She caught his reciprocal scowl and smirked. He was obviously trying to make a good impression on her mother by not taking too much food. Despite his earlier comment about how she sculled her first glass of wine, she warmed to his old fashioned ways. His thoughtfulness at the table strengthened her resolve to disregard her mother’s overbearing comments tonight.

  “I see…” Joanna stretched across to retrieve the serving platter from her. “Aren’t you having more than that, Jessica?” She eyed her daughter’s plate with disapproval.

  Jessie glanced down at the two Brussel sprouts, two pieces of cauliflower, two baby carrots and two boiled potatoes. The only item breaking the symmetry was a spoonful of peas.

  “You can’t possibly survive, let alone dance on that. Jessica, eat some meat, please.”

  “No thank you, Mum. I haven’t eaten meat in years, and I’ve survived and danced just fine.” She hated the dining table lectures over her eating preferences and diet. With an audible huff, she reached for her glass, slurping a hefty gulp of merlot. Now, she didn’t feel like eating anything. With her resolve shattered and only the awkward sound of cutlery scraping the plates, silent tension rippled through the room.

  “Coodravale Homestead is beautiful, Mrs Hilton,” said BJ. “Is there anything that needs attending to tomorrow I could help with?”

  “I’ve got everything handled. Your help’s not needed.” Richard swatted his offer like a nuisance fly.

  “There’s no need to be rude, Richard,” said Jessie, shooting her brother a critical scowl. “BJ was only trying to help.”

  “We don’t need his help. I don’t understand what he’s doing here. Dad’s lying in hospital, and you bring some stranger into our house. Who is this guy?” He banged his cutlery on the table.

  “Now, Richard. Calm down. Coodravale is Jessica’s home too, you know.” Instead of reproaching her son for his rudeness, it was all too obvious to Jessie her mother simply tried to pacify him. Full of himself, Richard sat at the other end of the table like the head of the household in her father’s absence. Jessie bit her tongue, but inside she seethed.

  “Jess, I demand to know who he is?” With his arms folded and face reddening, Richard glared at his sister.

  In normal circumstances, she would have fought back, told her brother to mind his own business, but her life no longer resembled normal circumstances. Telling her mother about some crazed lunatic stalking her was not what she’d intended to do on this trip. Exhaling a shuddering breath, she half-frowned at BJ. He nodded, but she disagreed with a shake of her head.

  “Jessica, what’s going on?” Concern seeped into Joanna’s voice as she swivelled in her chair to face her daughter.

  Again, Jessie shook her head. Again, BJ nodded.

  “Mrs Hilton, I am a friend of Jessie’s, but there’s a bigger reason why I’ve driven her here…”

  “No. Don’t say anything,” Jessie pleaded.

  “What bigger reason?” With her full attention now on BJ, Joanna drilled him for more.

  “I’m sorry, Jessie, but under the circumstances, your mother has a right to know.”

  Jessie hung her head and twisted the dinner napkin in her lap. “All right. You can tell her.” She raised her gaze and stared hard at her mother. “But, Mum, I don’t want you to worry. You have enough going on with Dad.”

  “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Joanna’s head turned right to left in demand of an answer.

  “Jessie had a little trouble last night. Someone broke into her unit. The police are currently on the case, but they suspect she has caught the unwanted attention of a stalker.”

  Joanna gasped. “Oh, Jessica. That’s awful. My poor darling.” She pushed back her chair and rushed to her daughter’s side, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

  “Shit, Jess. I’m sorry. That’s terrible,” said Richard.

  “It’s okay. Really. Don’t fuss.”

  “I offered to drive Jessie here to see her dad. I figure if someone is stalking her, having me around would at least be some protection until the police find out what’s going on.”

  With her brows drawn tight, Joanna returned to her chair and poured more wine. “Thank you, Brad, for playing my daughter’s body guard. But friends don’t normally place themselves in harm’s way for each other.” She tossed back a mouthful of red.

  “Maybe in our world, Mum, friends don’t do that, but in BJ’s world of friends, they do.” A grateful smile tipped her mouth. “So as I said, no need to worry. Our concern at the moment is Dad. No more talk about me. I’m sure the police will take care of everything. Now, what did the doctor say about Dad and his recovery?”

  Joanna fluffed around with her napkin and shifted the cutlery on her plate. “But I am worried about you, Jessica. It is very chivalrous of Brad to stand by you like this, but still…”

  She caught the sheen in her mother’s eyes. She was holding back tears. An event she had rarely witnessed in her life. Rising from her chair, it was Jessie’s turn to encircle her mother in her arms. “Mum, I’ll be fine. Really I will. BJ is keeping an eye out for me. It’s you and Dad I’m worried about. Now tell me. What did the doctor say?”

  Dabbing the napkin to her eyes, Joanna straightened in the chair resuming the posture of matriarch once more. “Dr Bruen isn’t sure. He said we’ll know over the next few days. Richard and I are going back to the hospital early in the morning.”

  “Then I’ll come with you,” she said, holding her mother’s hand.

  “Thank you, Jessica. I’m sure if we all go together it will lift your father’s spirits. We can talk to the doctor then and see what we need to consider next. I’m so pleased you came home, darling. Forgive Richard for being so nasty. And me. The stress is getting to us. Having you here really helps.” She squeezed her hand and smiled a humble apology.

  “Yeah, sorry, Jess,’ said Richard with a hang-dog expression.

  “That’s okay.”

  “Now let’s eat before everything is cold,” declared Joanna, waving her fork in the air to signal the resumption of dinner.

  “You were right. Even with Dad so sick, things are turning out better than I expected.” An easy smile graced Jessie’s face as they wandered back to the Garden Wing, with Whiskey prancing beside them. “Tonight ended up quite normal. Once Mum settled down, and Richard stopped being so rude, we actually had a pleasant dinner, considering the circumstances.”

  “I’m sorry about taking the lead on the stalker thing, but I thought it would be better to tell them, than not.”

  “That’s okay. It was actually a good call on your part. My family can be strange, as you have no doubt noticed. I wasn’t sure how they’d react if they knew. But because you told them and not me, I think they handled it better.”

  “It can be tricky. Being in a family is a lot harder than being in a friendship. There’s nearly too much closeness, too much past good and bad with family that just doesn’t come into play with friends. With friends there’s an unspoken line in the sand… respect, loyalty and integrity. With family, there’s usually someone who crosses that line despite the damage it may cause. Being a friend is easier than bei
ng in family. Way easier…”

  “But it’s a shame it takes something like an illness or some big drama to bring families together.” She glanced up at the night sky remembering the happy, childhood times she’d spent with her father counting the stars. If only Dad and I could go back there, now. She scratched her head, trying to work out why that loving father-daughter relationship had changed. A distance had grown between them over the years, yet her father had told her today how much he had always loved her. And Father Conlon had impressed upon her the same assurances. It was all so confusing.

  “They say you never know how good you’ve got it until it’s gone. I know for a fact that’s true, not just for families, but for everyone.”

  “Yes, you’re right. You just never know what the future will bring…” When they reached the stairs up to the veranda of the Garden Wing, she stopped and turned. “I’m sorry I snapped at you before we went to dinner. You were only trying to help, but I get so on edge when I come back home. Forgive me?”

  “Of course. No problems.”

  “Thanks.” She stepped up one stair and stopped again. Flashing a mischievous grin, she blocked his way. “You must be starving...”

  “On that point you’re one hundred percent correct.” He rubbed his belly.

  “I got you a doggy bag from dinner.” She held up a plastic bag triumphantly.

  He peered inside and saw two large takeaway containers filled with lamb and vegetables. “God, I hope you didn’t tell your mother I was still hungry?”