Retribution: Who would you kill to escape your past?

by Diane Demetre

  Tears filled Richard’s eyes as he hugged his mother close. “Oh, Mum. I love you so much. And Dad…”

  “We both knew you loved us. It had to be your decision to talk about it, not ours. After all, it is your life.” She clung to her son’s hands. “So, now that everything is out in the open, why don’t we all sit under the oak tree? Have a glass of wine to toast your father and the future. Come on, Richard. You can help me, and we can finally talk about you, the real you.”

  Chapter 49

  Lounging on the bed with Jessie snuggled on his chest, and Whiskey snoozing on the floor, BJ considered the whirlwind of events that brought them to the end of this momentous day.

  “Jessie, do you want to talk about any of this?” Stroking her hair, he breathed in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. I’ve been having nightmares about it and playing it out in my subconscious mind for so long, I don’t really feel like digging deeper or talking about it. Even the whole Skip Norton episode feels like the universe was somehow conspiring to push my buttons, to make me remember. Well, today I did. And now, I’d just like to let it go.” She upturned her face, trading a smile with him. “I guess it’s a bit like if I asked you do you want to talk about all the things you’ve seen and done when you were in the SAS.”

  “Yes. I understand. There’s a lot of stuff I’d rather just leave alone as well. It’s a bit like picking the scab off an old sore, it just keeps bleeding. You’ve got to let it heal.”

  “That’s exactly how I used to feel every time I came home to Coodravale. And now I know why. The whole coming-home experience was bittersweet.”

  “Maybe now you’ll be able to come home and it will only be sweet?” He breathed her in and sighed.

  “Yes, I think it will.” She sprang up in bed and swivelled on her bottom to face him. “Would you have killed Uncle Frank?”

  “No. But I wanted to.”

  “What stopped you?”

  “You. Even if you hadn’t turned up right at that moment, you were the one who stopped me…you and the life we could have together. And the life I had with Rachael and Tiffany. No matter how much Frank deserved to die, if I’d killed him, I would have sentenced myself to a worse death.”

  She cocked her eyebrow and regarded him. “What’s that?”

  “Never being able to move on. Never being able to forgive, or let go of a past not worth remembering.”

  Lunging forward, she wrapped herself into him. “And that’s why I don’t want to think about Uncle Frank and what happened in the shearing shed ever again. It’s done. It’s past. I want to focus on the future, my career, you and me—oh, and Whiskey of course.” At the mention of her name, Whiskey snorted a loud snore. “So, are you ready to leave tomorrow?”

  “Yes, we’ll leave straight after breakfast. You need to get back to Melbourne to see your artistic director.”

  “And once you get back to Melbourne, what do you need to do?”

  “Look after you.” Sweeping her in his arms, he leaned Jessie backwards, kissing her long and tender. She tasted sweet and forbidden, like an extravagant confectionery delight. He yearned to devour her, but instead he released her from the delicious embrace. Fusing her in an intense gaze, he held her steady. “Are you happy?”

  “Yes. Despite everything, or maybe because of it, I am.”

  “Well, let me know when you’re deliriously happy.”

  As a frown wrinkled her forehead, he waited, wondering if she’d remember. The gold flecks in her hazel eyes glinted as a mischievous expression brightened her face.

  “I remember…” Her lips tipped in a cheeky smile. “I promise I will let you know when I’m deliriously happy.”

  The long-awaited balminess of a summer’s night finally settled on Coodravale. The lone owl awoke and resumed hooting his mating call. Either he’d still not found a mate or he lacked satisfaction. BJ felt a little sorry for him, for unlike the owl, he had found a mate. Nevertheless, the passionate affection growing in his jeans indicated he too, lacked satisfaction. In this regard, he sympathised even more with his feathered friend. Disinclined to stay cuddling too much longer, he kissed Jessie’s forehead. “I’m going to bed. We’ve an early start and a long drive tomorrow.”

  “Won’t you stay?” The moist pout of her lips, her longing gaze and the creaminess of her skin tested his resolve.

  “I want to, but we have an agreement. When we’re both deliriously happy, we’ll make love then. Anyway, whether you want to or not, I want you to give yourself some time. When I touch you, I …” He had no idea how to finish this sentence without making her feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to touch her, to make love to her and for her to recoil because of the sexual abuse in her childhood. That would be too awful.

  “I understand. Let’s give it some time. There’s no rush. Deliriously happy it is.” She reached over, cupped his face and kissed him—an endearing kiss, a kiss of promise and hope. “I don’t know what I would have done without you through all this.”

  “You would have done what you’ve always done, Jessie Hilton—fronted up and toughed it out.” Slipping out of bed, he pulled the sheet over her. “Now, no more nightmares, okay?”

  “Okay. No more nightmares. Good night.”

  “Good night, my love.” Sliding his hand on the wall, he flicked off the lights and closed the bedroom door.

  Opening the French doors, he looked down at Whiskey. “Righto, girl. Out you go. It’s too hot in here for you to sleep.” His faithful Border collie circled three times in her bed on the veranda and plonked down with a grunt.

  On shutting the door and getting undressed, he pulled the picture of Rachael and Tiffany from his bedside table drawer. Once under the covers with the frame in his hand, he traced his thumb over the faces of his two favourite women of his past. “I love you both so much. But Angel and Ricky were right. It’s time for me to move on. I know you won’t be mad, Rachael. I know you would want me to be happy, and I think I can be with Jessie. At least, I’m willing to give it a try. And my baby girl, Tiffany. You were gone way too soon, but maybe you’ll come back to me?” His eyes shone with tears as the intensity of asking permission from his dead wife and daughter caught in his chest. “You will be with me always. My girls. My precious girls.” Clutching the frame to his chest, he closed his eyes. Tighter and tighter he squeezed them, his chin tucked into his chest. Finally, he exhaled and opened his eyes. Letting go is tough. A wave of acceptance washed over him as he kissed their images. He rolled over and slipped the picture into the bedside drawer. Without a moment’s thought or hesitation, he reached up and turned off his bedside lamp. The darkness threatened him no more.

  Chapter 50

  Like a great gift from heaven, the sun spread its luminescence across the countryside, highlighting its lavish smorgasbord. Even at this early hour, shadows retreated leaving nothing but a vivid, light-enriched landscape of brilliant blue and green hues. Hauling bags onto their shoulders and with Whiskey in tow, Jessie and BJ farewelled the Garden Wing. She stood on the veranda, gazing out through the poplar and crab apple trees towards the Goodradigbee River. The familiar sound of distant rushing waters, bleating sheep and laughing kookaburras loosened her thoughtful expression. “It’s been a helluva ten days.”

  “I’d say, more like hell. Full stop.” He slanted a glance in her direction.

  “Yes. But it’s over now.” She sighed as the last fingers of the past released their hold.

  “Mostly. Just the Skip Norton court case, but with Angel at the helm, it should be fairly straight forward. All you’ll need to do is front up. And you know how to do that already…” He leaned down, and turning her mouth up to meet his, Jessie accepted his proud kiss.

  “Off we go then.” She trotted down the stairs, eager to get on the road. Little topped the hope which fluttered in her heart. Like the story of Odette in Swan Lake, Jessie had been under the curse of an evil sorcerer all her life
and now the spell was lifted. She was free. Sensing her life had taken a one hundred and eighty degree turn over these past few weeks, she renewed her faith in a future of her choosing.

  With BJ and Whiskey beside her, she sauntered to the Jeep where Joanna and Richard waited. Beaming as bright as the morning, she grasped her mother’s hands. “So, Mum, we’ll be back to spend Christmas Day with you and Richard, okay?”

  Joanna turned to BJ. “But what about your family, Brad? Don’t you need to spend Christmas with them?”

  “My mum has spent many Christmases without me. Besides, since I’ve been back from duty, I’ve spent Christmas with her. It’ll be fine. Anyway, I want to take Jessie to meet Mum in the New Year.” As he hugged Jessie closer, her skin tingled. She longed to get back to Melbourne, so it could be just them.

  “See you then, Jess. Thanks for everything.” Stepping forward, Richard hugged her tight.

  “I love you, Richard.”

  “And I love you.” Releasing her, he shook BJ’s hand. “Good to have you here, mate. You look after my sister, okay?”

  “That’s my job. And you take care of your mother.”

  “That’s my job,” he said, with a wink.

  “This is for you, Jessica. Your father wanted you to have it.” Joanna dropped a fine gold chain on which hung a gold swan into Jessie’s palm.

  “It’s my ballerina necklace. You and Dad gave it to me one Christmas when I was little. I wondered what happened to it.”

  “Yes. Your father found it in the shearing shed a long time ago. I don’t know why he kept it all this time and didn’t give it back to you then.” She shook her head obviously confused by Ken’s actions. “But when he was in the hospital, he told me where he’d kept it and asked I give it to you.”

  Holding the chain up, Jessie nodded at BJ to fasten it around her neck.

  With a delicate touch, Joanna stroked the gold ballerina medallion resting on Jessie’s throat. “I know I’ve been tough on you, Jessica. But I want you to have the career you deserve. I want you to fulfil your destiny, without distraction. And you’re doing just that. You’re the best daughter a mother could ever have. I’m so proud of you.” Enclosing her in her arms, Joanna caressed her daughter’s hair with long, loving strokes.

  “And you’re the best mother. I promise I won’t let you down or myself for that matter. Watch this space, there’s more to come yet.”

  “I have no doubt.” Joanna swiped away her tears and turned to BJ. “Now Brad, you get my daughter back to Melbourne safely. We’ll see you for Christmas lunch. Richard and I are looking forward to having you back here.” Reaching for her son, she wrapped an arm around his waist with a tug.

  “See you then.” BJ leaned over and kissed Joanna goodbye. Glancing over his shoulder to Jessie, he cast a brilliant smile. “Let’s hit the road.”

  After a brief exchange of more hugs and kisses, Jessie slid into the Jeep with Whiskey propped in the back and BJ behind the wheel. For Jessie, the growl of the engine as it came to life was like an overture, signalling the beginning of a new performance, a new opportunity. The curtain had come down on her past, and now she was launching onto a new stage, into a new future.

  As the Jeep pulled away along the gravel driveway, the blossoming flowers nodded in approval. Clouds of bees thrummed as they darted to and fro, oblivious to Coodravale’s history, charm and family secrets. Jessie hung out the window, waving and calling goodbye. “I love you. See you soon. I love you.”

  Joanna and Richard chased the Jeep up the driveway, echoing her farewells. Once they reached the gate, mother and son linked arms, turned and strode back to the homestead. If only Dad was here, Jessie thought. But deep inside her, she knew he was.

  Reclining back in the seat, she looked across at BJ and blew out a breath. “I love Coodravale, but I can’t wait to get home to Melbourne.”

  “Me, too.” With raised eyebrows, he cast a sideways glance. “Since I wasn’t woken up last night by screaming, I assume you didn’t have any nightmares?”

  “No. I had a great night’s sleep.” Finally, she could say this simple fact which other people took so much for granted. She’d had a good night’s sleep. Not because she’d done a yoga class, but because she was done with the drama.

  “Good to hear.” His cobalt blue eyes sliced through her just as they’d done on the first night they’d met. My God, he’s gorgeous.

  Unable and unwilling to drag her gaze away, she realised she was returning to Melbourne with a man in her life. But what woman wouldn’t want this handsome, muscled, protective warrior as her man? She’d not gone searching for him, but here he was, an unexpected gift of love. A bolt of appreciation and anticipation raced up her body, searing her groin with yearning. Home. He was taking her home, back to her unit, back to her ballet and soon, back to his bed. Stretching her legs deep into the foot well, she spent the six-hour drive wide awake in happy conversation and delirium.

  “Here you go. Home at last.” BJ dumped her bag onto the floor.

  Scanning her unit, a grateful smile graced her lips. Gone were the police tape and all hint of the break-in. Her little home had returned to its normal persona thanks to Ricky and Jasmine who’d cleaned up in her absence.

  “I must say they did a fine job, those two.” Hands on hips, he examined her unit.

  “Yes. They did. Everything is just as it used to be.” She strolled around, running her fingers over her furniture. Even a quick glance in the bedroom proved Jasmine had tidied everything to within an inch of its life. “Jasmine is the best friend a girl could have…”

  “And Ricky, the male counterpart.”

  She wrapped her arms around BJ’s waist in an affectionate squeeze. “Do you think they’ll get together?”

  “Hard to say. Ricky is a player. I’m not sure if he’s the settling down kind. But I do know he’s quite taken with Jasmine. I guess we’ll have to wait and see. But enough about them…So what do you want to do? I need to get Whiskey home.”

  “You go home with Whiskey. I’m going to stay here and organise myself. We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. I need to have some time to myself at the moment.”

  “Call me tomorrow. But if you need anything, you know…”

  “I know where you are. But I have a feeling I won’t need saving again, if that’s okay with you?” She shot him a cheeky smile.

  “Perfectly. See you then.” Cupping her face, he pressed a long, lingering kiss to her mouth. “Tomorrow…”

  “Tomorrow…”

  Once she closed the door, she lifted her bag and headed for the bedroom. Hazy mid-afternoon light filtered through her windows. Up until now, she’d peered out these panes, wondering what life was like on the other side. Back then, she’d lived with an fretful tightness in her chest. Now, a fluttery lightness danced inside her. Where fear and anxiety had previously dwelled, the strength of certainty now resided. This is my time. It’s now or never. A glimmer of sunlight reflected off the opposite building’s window, blinding her for a moment with its glare. My time…

  She continued to her bedroom to unpack, and within the hour, she was propped on her couch, a mug of tea in hand. Spread on the coffee table in front of her were the four photos of her and her father that she’d selected for the funeral. Beside them was an assortment of ballet programs and professional career shots she’d rummaged out from a box in her wardrobe. Her eyes rested on the collection of memorabilia. With pen and paper, she wrote down the size picture frames she would need to buy. If her life had been worth living, it was worth recording and displaying. She would never keep anything hidden away again.

  Placing her mug on the table, she reached for her demi-pointe shoes. Having showered, and now dressed in her ballet gear, Jessie slipped them on, tying the ribbons tightly at her ankles and tucking in the loose ends. Rising to her feet, she pushed over her insteps, arching each foot multiple times. She padded to the kitchen bench, her impromptu barr
e, to begin. Three hours of hard work lay before her. Her spirit soared.

  Chapter 51

  “Well, here we are at last girl. Home.” BJ threw open the front door of his house and with the force of a droving dog, Whiskey rushed past his legs straight to the kitchen. Securing the door behind him, he wandered after her, detouring only to place his bag on the bed. With everything that had happened, it felt like he’d been gone for months—like he’d been on a tour of duty. In some ways, he had. The difference this time was that he was coming home victorious, without having killed anyone or destroying part of his soul in the process. He was returning home with someone special and with love in his heart. Despite his past happy home-comings with Rachael and Tiffany, this one held even grander promise and hope. For now, he no longer had danger as his constant companion.

  “Okay, Whiskey. An early dinner it is.” He opened the freezer door and pulled out a bag of bones. “You’ll have to wait while I defrost one though.”

  Squatting her bottom to the floor, the Border collie followed her master’s every move as he placed her dinner in the microwave. On the ding from the appliance, she sprang to her feet, bouncing with excitement. “Here you go, Whiskey.” He opened the back door and with bone in mouth, she bolted for the grass to resume her usual dinner routine.

  Propped in a deck chair, feet on the railing and beer in hand, he watched Whiskey with quiet appreciation. Life is good. Had anyone tried to convince him of this simple truth a month or more ago, he would have grunted in disbelief. Now, no longer concerned with barricading himself against the world, he looked forward to living in the world again—this time with Jessie by his side.

  He cracked the driving stiffness from his neck, placed his bottle on the table and rose. With hands resting on the railing, he scanned the back yard. That’s the spot. Across the back bamboo line, lay a wide strip of gradual sloping grass. Striding down the stairs and past Whiskey, he paced out the patch of land doing rough calculations in his head. He looked at his watch. There was still a few hours of daylight left. Plenty of time. Within fifteen minutes, he stripped down to his shorts and drove a garden fork into the ground.