Lawson's Bend

by Nicole Hurley-Moore

  ‘You mean suicide? But that’s just it, Mr Nichols, nearly everyone I’ve spoken to said that Harley wasn’t suicidal.’

  ‘Sometimes it’s not an obvious thing. A long time ago I had a friend who suffered from depression. He’d struggled in the past but there was this point when his entire life turned around. Jase had got a job building, something he’d dreamed of ever since we had been kids, he was getting on well with his old man for the first time in years, started therapy and had just proposed to his girlfriend. Everything was going well and I really believed that Jase was going to be okay—that was until I found him hanging in his dad’s barn. What I’m saying, Henny, is that you never know what’s going on in here,’ Nichols said as he tapped his temple. ‘But I hope it was an accident because anything else would break his poor parents’ hearts.’

  ‘But if nothing else, Harley loved his dog—he wouldn’t leave Dover to fend for himself,’ Henny insisted.

  ‘Which then brings us back to the official cause of death—accidental.’

  ‘But why would he be in a place that scared him? It just doesn’t make sense. He hated the res, he thought it was haunted.’

  ‘And I suppose you got this from Mr Tavish?’

  Henny nodded.

  ‘Yeah, he told me that you’d gone and asked him a bunch of questions. Tavish is damaged too and eaten up by his daughter’s death. I don’t blame him—I get it, being a dad and all. But Tavish drowns his sorrows to forget and with that comes a lot of fantasy. I wouldn’t put too much in what he says. There’s a good chance that he’ll forget it and tell you something else completely different the next day. So, getting back to business, is there anything else?’

  ‘Well, my car was egged the other week outside the supermarket.’

  ‘And you’re only telling me about this now?’

  Henny gave a shrug. ‘At the time I didn’t think it was important, just kids mucking about or something.’

  ‘Did you see anyone?’

  Henny shook her head. ‘Nope. It was dark and the whole place was pretty deserted. Like I said, I expected it would be kids but there wasn’t anyone around when I discovered it. I suppose that doesn’t mean that they weren’t there, sniggering behind the corner or something like that. Maybe the two things don’t have anything to do with each other.’

  ‘And maybe they do. I promise that I’ll try to get to the bottom of it but until then, please don’t ruffle anyone else’s feathers.’

  ‘Are you telling me to stop asking questions about Harley?’ Henny asked, pinning him with her stare.

  ‘I’m saying that you should be mindful that you weren’t the only one affected by both Harley’s death and the drowning ten years ago. There are families still hurting from their loss and the more you talk about it, the more people have to relive the past.’

  ‘But I’m not talking about the drowning, I was only asking about Harley.’

  ‘Yes, but the entire town knows how and where he died. Just by association it dredges everything up again. Listen, Henny, I’m only saying this because I care about you—you’ve been a friend of Charlie’s since preschool. Just be careful and take it easy, that’s all I’m asking.’

  ‘Alright, I promise I won’t call a town meeting,’ Henny said with a slight smile.

  ‘Well, I guess it’s a start,’ Senior Sergeant Nichols sighed.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The weeks slid by and Easter had come and gone. Henny’s days were filled with preparing The Matchbox for opening. Everything was coming together—the walls were painted, shelving installed along with a small counter with an old-fashioned cash register, and most of the prints were in hand along with the couple of original paintings she’d had framed. Henny was confident that she’d make her first of June opening date.

  When she wasn’t at the shop she spent her time wandering through the nearby bush with Dover, although they never ventured as far as the res. She’d hung out with Charlie, Gemma and Mia a few times for dinner, gossip and a general catch-up. Even though Mia hadn’t grown up in Lawson’s Bend, she seemed to click with the other girls and Henny had to admit it felt good to have the support of a group of women who she could depend on. Bit by bit Henny found herself willing to connect with people. She’d held herself back from forming attachments—and not just the romantic kind—because she was terrified about getting too close to someone only to have them taken away. But ever since she’d moved back to Lawson’s Bend, life had had a way of testing all the self-imposed boundaries she’d had in place for years.

  There was no getting around the fact that she loved Aunt Janey and even her two slightly aloof dogs. There was no denying that she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Dover and couldn’t imagine life without him; he even came to the shop with her most days. Henny would openly admit that she cared for Charlie, Gemma and Mia—it was fun to drink tea and chat about all the little and big things. And then there was Stephen. She’d been holding him at arm’s length, telling them both that they could only ever be friends. Henny told herself that she was doing it for his own good—none of her relationships ever lasted and she didn’t want to hurt him. But the truth was she didn’t want to open herself up only to get her heart torn out again. She knew it, and for the first time in years she was willing to actually own it.

  Henny had only seen Stephen a handful of times in the past couple of weeks. He was tied up not just with the farm but also the barn he was renovating, and she missed him. She missed how easy it was to talk to him about anything and everything—well, nearly everything. She missed having him close by and the comfort that brought, and she missed the tingles she’d get whenever he brushed up against her or held her hand.

  Henny kept herself busy. She was used to being by herself and she viewed solitude as a comforting old friend. But sometimes when she was home with only Dover to keep her company, her brain reeled and she’d think about Harley, the res and what he might have been trying to tell her.

  One night, with a glass of wine in hand, Henny dropped down on the couch and reached for a notebook and a pen. Harley had said, Not safe—no accident, and the phrase had been circulating around her mind ever since. She still didn’t have any idea what he had meant but she was determined to try to work it out.

  Her mother’s death had been an accident and Henny couldn’t see why it would be construed any other way. So she turned her attention to the drownings, perhaps there was something there—although everyone knew that it happened because the platform collapsed. But still, perhaps it was worth looking further.

  The first thing Henny did was to make a list of the victims, their families and the survivors, particularly the ones who still lived in the area. Four people died that night: Georgie Sykes, Laura Sanders, Alistair Hogan and Amber Tavish. Of the survivors, many had moved away—some to Bendigo, some to Melbourne, while others went further afield, like Sally Bodine who was in France.

  She couldn’t put her finger on it but Henny felt sure that she was on the right track. Whatever Harley had tried to warn her about must have had something to do with this. Something else must have happened the night of the drowning—something that wasn’t an accident.

  A frown creased her brow as a thought popped into her head. If Harley had been murdered because of something in the past, most possibly the Killop Res incident, then there was a good chance that she knew whoever had done it. Henny reached over and took another sip of wine—it was a disconcerting thought.

  The main question was what had happened: if she could find out that then she was sure that the rest of the puzzle would fall into place.

  ***

  ‘So, you ready for the grand tour?’ Stephen said as he pulled up outside the old barn.

  Henny turned to him and smiled. ‘Sure am.’

  As they headed towards the big double doors, Stephen took her hand. Henny glanced sideways and noted how his eyes widened in surprise as she linked her fingers through his.

  Two large windows had been inserted into
the wooden doors, which opened onto the barn floor and a hayloft above. Henny could still smell a hint of fresh paint.

  ‘The old place has been here for a while. It was probably built in the twenties or thirties. Hopefully with the reno it’s had it’ll stand for a whole lot longer,’ Stephen said.

  ‘I’m sure it will. The outside looks fantastic—you should be really proud of yourself.’

  ‘Thanks, but let’s be clear—I had some help,’ Stephen replied. ‘Come on, I’m using the side door as the front now.’

  ‘The big doors don’t open?’

  ‘They will, but the builder is still tinkering with them. Basically we’ve concentrated on the living area in the loft and, to be honest, I’m still not exactly sure what I’ll do with the barn space. I’ll have to have a think about that.’

  They went through the side door. In front of Henny on the far wall was a small kitchenette with a narrow wooden bench and a couple of stools. There were touches of galvanised steel, wood and a shiny stainless-steel splashback. To Henny’s right the space opened up. It was still bare plasterboard with the odd electrical wire hanging here and there. In one corner next to the double barn doors there was a stack of wood, a sawbench and half a dozen tins of paint.

  ‘Like I said, there’s a lot to do down here but there’s no hurry. The upstairs is done and, as you can see, so is the kitchen. The bathroom is through that door and down a hallway,’ he said as he pointed through the kitchen. ‘It was cheaper to do the kitchen and bathroom downstairs and besides, I don’t mind having to come down to get a coffee.’

  Henny looked around the space. ‘It’s going to be brilliant. You must be pleased.’

  ‘Yeah, I am. Just glad to have my own space. I stayed in the house for Dad’s sake, but it’s way past time.’

  ‘So your dad wanted you to stay?’

  ‘Kind of. I’m not sure if you remember, but Mum died when I was still in school—it shattered Dad and me but I pulled it together to complete my final year. I’d planned to go to uni but Mum’s death had really affected Dad and I debated whether to defer. The farm was also in a bit of trouble, which didn’t help. When the whole thing at Killop Res happened it was kind of the last straw for Dad. Everything got on top of him. It was too much and he had a breakdown. He got help and he’s fine now but at the time there was just no way that I could leave Lawson’s Bend.’ Stephen led the way up the wooden staircase to the loft space as he spoke.

  Henny followed. ‘So you stayed, looked after your dad and ran the farm?’

  Stephen shrugged. ‘Of course. What else could I do?’

  ‘That was a hell of a lot of responsibility on you—I mean, we were just kids back then.’

  ‘Well, sometimes life forces you to grow up whether you want to or not. Anyway, it’s done and there’s no point moaning about it. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret my decision to stay. Dad needed me, but now it’s time to move on.’

  ‘Oh wow,’ Henny said when she reached the top of the stairs and looked around her. ‘It’s beautiful, Stephen—so much light.’

  He gave her a smile. ‘Thanks, it turned out better than I imagined it would. It’s not the biggest space but there’s certainly enough for me. I’m sure it will look a whole lot better when I get some furniture in here. That door leads to the bedroom,’ he said pointing, ‘and the glass door opens up to a tiny balcony. There’s just enough room out there for a couple of chairs.’

  Henny wandered past Stephen and headed towards the balcony, her footsteps echoing across the wooden floor. Several large windows had been added so the whole space felt more like an airy loft apartment rather than a dingy old barn. She leant against the door and looked out to green paddocks punctuated with fences and tall gum trees. ‘It really is beautiful.’

  Stephen walked up behind her. He was standing so close that she could feel the heat coming off his body. As they stood in silence looking out at the countryside, Henny knew that what happened in the next few moments had the possibility to change their relationship forever. The question was, was she brave enough to take the next step? He rested his hand on her shoulder and the warmth of it seemed to seep into her body. Instinctively she placed her hand over his and she heard his intake of breath.

  ‘I want you, Henny, I always have,’ he whispered. ‘Not for a night or a week but always. It’s not a line—that’s how I feel. I know that you’re scared of starting something and I don’t want to push you, but are you willing to give us a chance? Do you want to try?’

  Henny took a breath and leant back against him. Aunt Janey was right: she deserved to be happy, or to at least try to be. Maybe she and Stephen were doomed before they even started, maybe whatever they had together would crash and burn around them, but the past had taught Henny one thing: she’d survive it. That single thought gave her courage.

  ‘I’m willing to try, Stephen. I don’t know what the future holds but I want to give it a shot—with you.’

  ‘That’s all I ask,’ Stephen said, slowly turning her around until she faced him.

  Henny looked him in the eyes. ‘I’m not sure how good I’ll be at this. I usually don’t stick around long enough for it to be called anything near a relationship. All I know is that I care about you and that I want to be with you.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ he said, bending his head to hers.

  The kiss was gentle and slow and as Henny wrapped her arms around Stephen she realised that tiny spark inside her had ignited. It was as if the floodgates had opened and Henny knew this was what she needed, even though she hadn’t realised it before. She ran her hands up Stephen’s back and spiked them through his hair. The passion and the need began to grow but underlying that was something deeper and of far greater value.

  He pulled back, catching his breath. Henny could see the love in his eyes and it should have terrified her but it didn’t.

  Stephen gave her an awkward little smile and joked, ‘Maybe I need to sit down after that.’

  She laid her hand on his chest. ‘I think you’re fine where you are,’ she said, before she pushed herself up on tiptoes and kissed him again.

  ***

  On Saturday afternoon Henny dropped by Leon and Kylie’s townhouse on the east side of town, an area she didn’t recognise at all anymore. The Changs’ place was part of a new estate that had been developed over the past few years. She slowed her car to a stop and glanced at the road signs, wondering if the new Dove Street crossed Sparrow Avenue. With a pang of regret she realised she was actually sitting on the edge of what used to be McCaffrey’s orchard. Henny knew that the town had to grow to survive but damn, McCaffrey’s apples had been the best. Big, glossy red apples that were juicy and sweet and tasted of her childhood.

  After taking the wrong exit on a roundabout, Henny finally found Swallow Avenue and followed it until she spied the turn-off into Sparrowhawk Drive. Kylie and Leon’s house stood on a corner, a slim two-storey building in the middle of a small garden with an apple tree by the front gate. Henny smiled; the old orchard lived on after all. She parked the car and grabbed a couple of colourful gift bags from the passenger seat.

  She had barely knocked on the front door when it swung open. Leon stood there with a broad smile, cradling a tiny baby.

  ‘Hey, Henny, come on in,’ he said. ‘Kylie will be down in a moment.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She closed the door as Leon appeared to have his hands full and followed him into the lounge room. She looked around the room before smiling at Leon. ‘It’s lovely.’ ‘Thanks, we like it. Anyway, this is Annabelle,’ he said proudly as he angled the newborn around so Henny could take a peek.

  ‘She’s beautiful—you and Kylie must be over the moon,’ Henny said, edging closer. ‘She’s perfect, Leon, she really is.’ ‘That’s putting it mildly,’ he said with a grin. ‘Come and sit down. Kylie won’t be a minute, she’s just changing.’

  ‘I hope she isn’t doing that for my benefit. I only popped around to give you these.’ Henny waggled the
bags in one hand as she sat down. ‘I’d hate to think that I’d put you to any trouble—I’d say that you have enough on your plate at the moment.’

  Leon shook his head. ‘Nah, when I told Kylie that you were coming around she said, Thank God, now I’ll really have to get out of these trackpants.’

  ‘It’s true, Henny. You’ve forced me to change into something other than baggy t-shirts and trackies. And believe me, that’s a good thing,’ Kylie said from the doorway.

  ‘Hey, no judgement,’ Henny said as she got up and walked over to Kylie and gave her a hug. ‘I can’t imagine what you’re dealing with.’

  ‘Disturbed sleep—well, not that much sleep at all, now I come to think of it,’ Kylie said. ‘But I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

  ‘I’m so happy for you. So these are for you.’ Henny handed her the gift bags.

  ‘Aw, thank you, but you didn’t need to do that.’

  ‘Yeah, but I wanted to,’ Henny said with a smile.

  ‘Come and sit down on the couch,’ Kylie said. ‘Leon, are you okay with Belle?’

  ‘Perfectly fine,’ he replied.

  Kylie sank into the suede couch and then peered into the first bag before pulling out a chocolate-brown teddy bear and three wraps in different pastel shades. Kylie wiggled the teddy in front of Leon to show him. ‘It’s adorable!’

  ‘I’m sure Annabelle has some teddies already but in my opinion you can never have too many,’ Henny said.

  Kylie opened the smaller bag and found a bottle of champagne and a gift card for one of the local restaurants.

  ‘I thought that two new parents might like a night out eventually, or, if you prefer, the restaurant delivers,’ Henny explained.

  Leon chuckled. ‘I reckon that has to be one of the best presents ever. Thanks, Henny.’

  ‘You’re more than welcome.’

  For the next half an hour Henny chatted to Kylie and Leon about baby life as well as how the preparations were going for the new shop. She got to hold little Annabelle and marvel at how perfect she was. Eventually she turned the conversation towards Harley and the past.