She swung by the post office and picked up the first batch of greeting cards that she’d ordered. Henny felt like a kid at Christmas as she drove back to her house, glancing repeatedly at the box sitting next to her on the passenger seat. She couldn’t wait to have a look.
Pulling into her drive she saw Stephen’s ute already parked out the front. He was standing on the front verandah and smiled as she got out of the car.
‘Hey there. I just dropped around in the hope that I’d catch you,’ he said, walking down the steps to meet her.
‘Hi, Stephen,’ Henny said before she scooted around to the other side of the car and grabbed the box off the seat. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah. Here, let me take that,’ he said, reaching for the box.
‘Thanks, but I’ve got it. It’s not heavy.’ She walked towards the house. ‘It’s the cards for the shop—I have to admit that now I’ve got them in my hands I don’t want to let them go.’
Stephen stepped back and grinned. ‘I get it. I wouldn’t want to either.’
‘What you can do is grab the keys,’ Henny said as she juggled to pass them over.
‘Sure.’
His fingers brushed against hers and she felt a warm tingle that had no business being there. Henny glanced back up at him and for a moment it was as if a veil had been parted. She saw him, really saw him, as if it was for the first time. This was the guy who had saved her and supported her without ever asking for anything in return.
‘Are you okay, Henny?’
Henny gave Stephen a quick smile and nodded. ‘Yeah, sorry—I guess I zoned out for a second.’
‘No worries, it happens to the best of us.’ He jiggled the key in the lock and opened the door. He stepped aside to let Henny through.
‘Thanks. So you never said why you dropped around,’ she said, heading to the lounge at the back of the house.
‘There were a couple of things. First, I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie this Saturday. The second is a bit more delicate.’ He followed her down the hall.
‘Well, that sounds mysterious and a little concerning,’ Henny said. She plonked the box down on the kitchen counter.
‘I guess I don’t mean it to be. It’s just that I’m not that good at saying things.’
Henny pulled out one of the kitchen stools and sat down, giving Stephen her undivided attention.
‘And now it comes to it, I’m not sure where to start.’
‘At the beginning is usually best,’ Henny said.
He blew out a breath as he sat down on the other stool and faced her. ‘Okay. I’m not a big one for gossip, but there’s some talk going around the town that you’ve been asking questions about Harley and his state of mind.’
Henny shrugged. ‘So maybe I have. It’s not a crime.’
‘Of course it isn’t, but apparently it’s been upsetting a few people.’
‘I don’t know why. I haven’t been asking anything outrageous, just stuff about how well a few people knew Harley. What have you heard?’
Stephen leant against the counter. ‘It’s more the questions about whether Harley was capable of suicide.’
‘Look, it was just a few questions to a handful of people. I hardly think that it would be enough to upset anyone. The general consensus is that it must have been an accident because Harley wouldn’t kill himself.’
‘I thought that we had all agreed on that?’
‘We had, but there’s this feeling I can’t shake that something else happened to Harley.’
‘All I’m saying is that there are some people in town that don’t like you asking questions.’
‘That’s usually a sign that they’re trying to cover something up.’
Stephen shook his head. ‘Nah, Hen, I think it has more to do with dragging up the past and having to relive it all again.’
‘That was never my intention.’
‘Maybe not, but one drowning at Killop Res makes you remember all the others—which of course is painful for the families and those who knew them.’
‘That’s true, but if it was something else then don’t we owe it to Harley to find out what really happened?’
‘But, Hen, you haven’t got any evidence—anything to hold up and say look at this. You keep saying that it’s a gut feeling but that’s not going to convince anyone.’
‘You’re right—maybe it’s time I looked for something concrete,’ Henny said.
He stared at her for a moment. ‘Henny . . .’
She reached over and took his hand, noting that damn tingle had returned. ‘Stephen, I swear I’m not making this up. Things just don’t add up with Harley’s death.’
‘They do if it was just a stupid accident. Come on, Hen, accidents happen all the time and no one can see them coming.’
‘Sure, but why on earth was Harley at the res in the first place, has anyone asked that? I mean, Dover Point is a long way from the res. Why was he there in the middle of the night? It makes no sense, unless he was meeting up with someone.’
‘Why on earth would you jump to that conclusion?’
‘No, think about it. Why would Harley be at the res? Harley was at the memorial but he and Dover left before the ceremony started and before I met up with you. So what was it that made him come back? Apparently he hated the place.’
‘So let’s just for a minute say that I agree with you. You’re saying that you think he was meeting someone that night, but who? And why would they want to hurt him? Harley was harmless.’
Henny gave a nod. ‘He was, but maybe he knew something or saw something he wasn’t meant to.’
‘That’s a lot of maybes.’
‘Look, you don’t have to agree with me but can you at least see the argument?’
Stephen was silent for a second or two before he said softly, ‘Sure, I can see it. I’m not at all convinced but it’s a theory.’ He frowned as he mulled it over a little more. ‘But as you said, why would Harley be up there in the middle of the night? There has to be a reason, one way or another.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Whatever it was, it must have been important to make him go there after dark—was he up there to take his own life, for some other reason, or was he was meeting someone?’
Chapter Twenty
Stephen
Killop Reservoir, 2 February 2008
Stephen leaned back against the tree trunk and looked across the water to the old platform. There was just a handful of kids left on it as pretty much everyone else was on the shore eating dinner.
‘It’s been a good day, hasn’t it?’ Leon Chang was sitting next to him.
‘Yeah, it has.’
‘Are you playing cricket on Saturday?’ Leon asked.
‘Yep. You coming along to watch?’
Leon shook his head. ‘Nah, I have to work. Those shelves aren’t going to stock themselves,’ he said with a grin. ‘Hey, there’s a party on Saturday night if you want to come.’
‘Whose party?’
‘Ethan’s,’ Leon admitted.
‘I think I’ll give it a miss, but thanks though,’ Stephen said as he glanced over at his friend.
‘I figured you’d say that but I thought I’d ask just the same. He’s alright, you know,’ Leon said. ‘Although I admit he’s a bit weird when it comes to you—what’s that about?’
Stephen shrugged. ‘I’ve got no idea. As far as I know I’ve never crossed him but we seem to piss each other off.’
Stephen heard a noise from the other side of the tree. He leaned back and craned his neck and found Harley Turner staring back at him.
‘Hey, Harley. I didn’t know you were there.’
Harley gave a shrug.
‘I swear he’s like a bloody Ninja,’ Leon said with a laugh. ‘You never hear him coming.’
‘That’s true,’ Stephen said with a laugh.
Harley walked around the tree and sat down on the ground in front of Stephen.
‘So you’re not coming to
the party on Saturday?’ said Leon.
Stephen shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Ethan and I don’t get on. I don’t know why, it’s just the way it is.’
‘I’ve known him since we were little. He can be a bit of a shit when he feels threatened.’
‘Don’t know how I’d qualify for that,’ Stephen said. ‘His family’s better off, he’s popular, he’s the footy captain . . . How would I be threatening to him?’
‘True, but he thinks you’re full of yourself.’
‘What?’ Stephen said in disbelief. He’d been called a few things in his life but never that.
‘Because you get better grades than him and you’re easy to get on with, which means you’re popular as well. Besides all of that, there’s the Henny thing.’
‘I don’t know—’
‘You like Henny,’ Harley stated. ‘You’ve always liked Henny.’
Leon laughed. ‘Well he’s got you there. If Harley knows then I guess so does Ethan, which is probably why he’s acting weird.’
‘And how does that work? I mean, they broke up months ago. And let’s face it, he’s moved on.’
‘I never said he was rational,’ Harley laughed. ‘That’s the truth.’
‘So he doesn’t want to be with her but he doesn’t want anyone else to be with her either,’ Stephen said with a frown.
‘Pretty much,’ Leon rolled his eyes. ‘I think deep down Ethan thinks that one day he’ll get back with Henny. Problem is, while he’s off having fun he expects her to wait for him and I doubt that’s going to happen. Henny’s a sweet girl but she’s not stupid.’
They fell into silence for a minute as Stephen mulled over the words. The lights at the barbeque area had come on in the deepening shadows and they cast a rosy glow over the scene, perfect lighting for a perfect day, and one that he’d always remember.
His inner reflection was interrupted as Ethan strode over.
‘What are you losers doing?’
‘Just chilling,’ Leon said. ‘Did you get something to eat?’
‘Yeah. So, Drake, are you playing cricket this weekend?’
‘Sure am,’ Stephen replied. ‘Are you coming out to the match?’
Ethan gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Nah, I’ve got better things to do. Besides, I get bored watching you all stand around all day. Everyone knows you cricketers play because you can’t hack the footy team.’
For once Stephen didn’t bristle at the comment after remembering what Harley had said. Instead he grinned and said, ‘Yeah, you’re right—too many injuries for me.’
There was a flash of disappointment in Ethan’s eyes when Stephen didn’t take the bait. ‘Harley, got a minute?’ he said before gesturing with his head and walking away.
Harley stood up and hurried after Ethan.
Chapter Twenty-one
Henny sat in Gemma’s cosy kitchen sipping a cup of green tea. There was a lovely floral scent that seemed to permeate the entire house, even into the kitchen. It was an old cottage on a leafy lane, not far from the hospital.
‘You’ve got a lovely place, Gemma.’
Gemma smiled over the rim of her cup. ‘Thanks. It’s small but there’s enough room for me and Shadow,’ she said, nodding towards a sleek ink-black cat dozing on the window seat. ‘Neither of us take up much room.’
‘How was work?’
‘Busy, but always rewarding in one way or another.’
‘I don’t know how you do it,’ Henny said.
‘Whats that?’ Gemma asked with an intrigued look on her face.
‘Deal with the death. I mean, working in the hospital you have to come up against it,’ Henny said as she placed her cup back on the table. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m in awe of you—I just know I couldn’t do it.’
‘Well, I guess I feel privileged to see both the beginning and end of life and in some way be a part of it. Everything is a cycle, Henny—it’s a natural thing.’
‘Yes, but what happens when the cycle isn’t so natural, as you put it?’
Gemma nodded. ‘You mean like what happened to our friends?’
‘Yes, I suppose I do. I ran away because I couldn’t deal with the death of my best friend and here you face it every day.’
‘The drowning affected us all in different ways. I can’t speak for you or anyone else but for me, I just wanted to help. Maybe on some level I thought that I couldn’t save the friends we lost but perhaps I could help save someone else.’
Henny looked at Gemma for a moment and nodded. ‘I get it—I really do.’
‘Well, it works for me,’ Gemma said with a smile before changing the subject. ‘So, how are the plans for The Matchbox going?’
‘Yeah, good. The shop’s getting a new coat of paint next week, thanks to Aunt Janey, and everything seems to be coming together well.’
‘So when are you opening?’
‘The start of winter, at least that’s the plan. I’m still getting the stock together and waiting on the prints and a couple of the actual paintings that I’m having framed.’
‘You’re selling your mum’s paintings as well?’ Gemma asked as she topped up Henny’s cup.
‘It’s mostly the prints but I thought I might put in a few of her paintings for sale to fill up the wall space,’ Henny said with a laugh. ‘Anyway, as I said on the phone, I’ve been told by so many people that you make the best scented candles and I hoped I could buy some for the shop.’
‘Of course I’ll make you some candles,’ Gemma said. ‘You know I only do it as a hobby, to wind down after work. I love making them.’
‘Well, you must be doing a good job because so many people said that if I wanted candles, I had to check yours out. What is that beautiful scent, anyway?’
Gemma smiled as she tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. ‘White flowers: jasmine, tuberose, lily of the valley and gardenia. It’s one of my favourites—it reminds me of my grandmother’s summer garden.’
‘Well, it’s lovely.’
‘Thanks.’
Gemma was quiet for a minute and Henny sensed that the mood had changed.
‘Henny, I wanted to ask you something. I hope I’m not out of line but I heard that you’ve been asking people about Harley’s death.’
‘Wow, word’s really getting around.’
‘Can I ask why? I mean, as far as I know the police are saying that it was an accident.’
‘Yes, that’s what I’ve heard too.’
‘Then why stir things up? Sorry, it’s just that this has brought up some really hard stuff for lots of people.’
Henny shook her head. ‘I promise, Gemma, that’s the last thing that I’d want to do. It’s just Harley told me some things before he died that really made me wonder.’
‘You don’t think it was an accident?’
Henny frowned. ‘I’m just not sure.’
‘But that only leaves one other option, suicide, and I don’t believe that for a minute,’ Gemma stated firmly. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the last thing Harley would ever do is kill himself that way.’
‘What makes you so certain?’
‘A hundred different things. Harley had problems, I’m not saying he didn’t, but he wouldn’t have purposely done it.’
‘Because of his dog?’ Henny asked. ‘Many people have mentioned how attached he was to Dover.’
‘Yes, but that’s not the only reason. He was terrified of drowning and he hated the res. The only reason he was there was because of the memorial. We’d spoken about it a few days earlier and he told me that ever since the accident he’d only been back a couple of times—what he said to me was that it was haunted. He said that every time he went there he could see them.’
‘You don’t believe that?’
‘Of course not, but Harley believed it. I don’t go there either, not because of what Harley said but because I still find it confronting and I can’t help but remember that night. It’s a sad place and you can feel that as soon a
s you get out of the car.’
‘Yes, I definitely get that feeling too,’ Henny said. ‘So if Harley hated the res so much, why would he have gone back there?’
‘Well, I can’t really understand that either, I guess. What’s your theory?’ Gemma asked.
‘I don’t have one yet. All I know is that he spoke to me before the memorial and warned me to leave. I was rattled by it as he seemed so sincere.’
‘He told you to leave the res?’
Henny shook her head. ‘No, Lawson’s Bend. He said that it wasn’t safe here and it wasn’t an accident.’
‘What did he mean by that?’ Gemma asked.
‘I don’t know, he wouldn’t say. Did you talk to Harley often?’
‘Not often, just sometimes. I was trying to get him some help. He’d agreed to see one of the doctors and discuss how we could help him and manage his mental health.’
‘He was willing to do that? I was told that he didn’t want any help.’
‘It’s true that in the past Harley had refused it. His parents tried so hard to get the help he needed but he wouldn’t. Over the past few months I’d been talking to him and he’d got to the point that he’d agreed to talk to Philip, I mean, Dr Baxter.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, we had an appointment set up for the Wednesday after the memorial. Harley had promised he’d go as long as I went for support. I’d even arranged for Dover to stay at a friend’s house for the afternoon. So you see, Henny, I don’t believe Harley would have hurt himself because he was finally reaching out.’
***
Driving home, Henny thought about what Gemma had said. She’d been the first to tell Henny any concrete facts about Harley. Many people had all agreed that he would never have turned to suicide because of Dover, but Gemma was the first person to suggest other reasons.
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