Return to Totara Park

by Shirley Wine

  Lacey came running back towards them and they ceased whispering. Neither of them was ready to share their secret with anyone, not even the child they’d made together.

  “Can we go and see Uncle Quentin and Aunty Catherine?” Lacey ran back to their side. “Can I have a ride on Duke?”

  “Why not?” Jared chuckled as he helped Winsome rise.

  “Yay,” Lacey shouted pumping her fist in the air as she raced back past the graves and tugged on the car door.

  “And so life goes on.” Jared’s soft comment echoed Winsome’s thoughts.

  They followed at a more sedate pace. For the first time since Matthew’s death, Winsome felt a surcease of the constant pain and grief.

  Something had shifted and changed between her and Jared today. This time of sharing had cemented a new understanding, each of the other’s pain and grief. Today they’d reached out to each other.

  Their relationship would never be the same as it was in the past and she didn’t want that. What they were building was stronger and better.

  It was only a few minutes’ drive from the cemetery to Levelly Lodge.

  As they parked Lacey tore her seat belt undone and was out of the car only skidding to a stop when Jared called her name sharply.

  “We’ll have to find Uncle Quentin first,” he said sternly as the girl jumped from foot to foot in a fever of impatience.

  “But Dad I want to ride Duke.”

  “What are the stable rules, Lacey? You tell them to me.”

  Lacey looked at him, her bottom lip jutting ominously. Jared just folded his arms and leaned back against the car. Winsome bit the inside of her lip desperate to keep a straight face as she watched the battles of wills.

  These two were so alike. But in Jared, Lacey had more than met her match.

  “I’m not allowed to go to the stables wiffout an adult,” Lacey said in a grudging put-upon-tone. “I’m not allowed in the stalls, or to walk behind a horse. I’m not to run or to yell. And I have to stop when I’m asked and do as I’m told.”

  “What else?”

  “If I nag I won’t get to ride.” Her eyes flashed rebelliously. “That’s not fair.”

  “It’s eminently fair, Miss Grainger.” Jared looked at Winsome giving her a searching look. “Are you happy with those rules? Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

  “No,” she said flushing as she remembered their harsh words the first time they’d come to Levelly. “I think you’ve covered everything.”

  “Okay, Lacey,” he said holding out his hand. “Let’s go down the stables and find Uncle Quentin.” He looked at Winsome. “Would you like to come with us?”

  “Come on Mummy,” Lacey wheedled grabbing at her hand. “It’s lots of fun. Don’t you want to see Duke?”

  “I’ll make sure you’re safe,” Jared reassured her. “Horses are not a lot different from cows and you’ve conquered your fear of them.”

  “Okay,” she said giving him a hesitant smile, “as long as I don’t have to touch them or ride them or anything.”

  “But, Mum,” Lacey said horrified. “That’s the bestest bit of the lot, riding.”

  “If your Mum doesn’t want to ride, Miss Grainger,” Jared, said trying to keep a straight face as Lacey giggled, “she doesn’t have to.”

  They all walked down to the stables and they’d hardly got inside the door when an indefinable air of urgency told them something was very wrong.

  “What’s the matter?” Jared asked as he found Quentin and Catherine in one of the stalls.

  Quentin looked up, relief on his face at seeing Jared. “Just the man I wanted to see. Taffy’s having trouble foaling, can you give me a hand?”

  Jared never hesitated. He strode across to the office, grabbed a pair of overalls and swiftly stripped out of his town clothes.

  “You and Lacey stay here, out of the way,” he said as he went into the stall with Quentin and Catherine.

  “Hold Taffy’s head, Catherine,” Quentin said curtly, “while Jared and I see if we can turn the foal.”

  For several moments there was only the sound of the mare’s heavy breathing, the grunting of men labouring hard and Catherine’s crooning words comforting the straining mare.

  Winsome folded her arms over Lacey’s middle holding the child back against her. She glanced around the stables breathing deeply and realised that she didn’t find it quite so over-powering.

  From the stalls she heard the low murmur of Catherine’s voice and the men’s terse whispers.

  “Can I see, Mummy?” Lacey asked craning her neck to get a look at what was happening.

  “Okay,” she whispered, “but stay close so you don’t scare the mare or get in the way.”

  Gingerly they inched closer until Lacey had a clear view through the open stall door.

  “That’s it.” Quentin’s voice had a pleased ring. “You’re a wizard, Jared.”

  “Okay Taffy, we have two forelegs and a nose.” Jared murmured encouragement to the straining mare. “One big push and we’ll see if you have a colt or a filly.”

  As Lacey and Winsome watched wide-eyed the mare gave a mighty heave, a wet foal slithered from its mother’s body and landed near where Jared was squatting. He grabbed a handful of straw, swiped the mucous from its nose and the foal shook its head, its eyes blinking and ears weighted down with moisture.

  In that moment, watching Jared assisting a mare to foal, Winsome realised she loved him, this strong, compassionate man of the land. He tended the little foal with the same care he lavished on every living creature that crossed his path.

  This was the man who had loved her unconditionally. And he would still have loved her, no matter what her parents had done, or what the psychiatrists had said and written about her.

  How could she have doubted him?

  How could she have let Gaelen’s sick jealousy tarnish something so very special?

  “It’s a colt.” There was no mistaking Quentin’s jubilation.

  “Okay, let’s leave Taffy and her son get acquainted,” Jared said quietly as they all eased out of the mare’s stall.

  “Did you see that?” Lacey asked in an awed whisper. “What’s a colt?”

  “A boy horse. You watch, he’ll soon be standing on those spindly legs and drinking from his mother,” Jared dropped Winsome a wink as he passed her on his way to wash up.

  Colour flooded her cheeks at that secretive acknowledgement that in the due time they would share this miracle of birth themselves.

  But the past was also very close.

  Pain and heartache made Winsome incredibly wary and afraid of revealing the depths of her emotions or the love she felt for this man. Like a miser, she hugged this newfound discovery to her chest.

  Not yet ready to share.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Three weeks later, Clinton Perry confirmed Winsome’s pregnancy.

  But neither she nor Jared wanted to make it public yet. It was their secret to savour in. private. The sense of well-being made her light hearted as she bustled about the homestead sweeping and cleaning.

  The new carpets were a huge improvement.

  The old house no longer echoed like a hollow gong. Although it would take more than carpets to turn this barracks of a house into a refurbished home.

  Winsome sighed softly.

  Her pregnancy had brought her closer to Jared, but at times she wondered if they’d ever breach the gulf between them. What did Jared expect? That she would easily forgive his emotional abandonment. Stubbornly she refused to tell him she loved him, wary of acceding him this power.

  While she didn’t know his feelings, she wasn’t about to reveal her own.

  Why should he love me? When he did give me his love, I didn’t trust it, preferring his mother’s distorted view instead.

  And in doing so, she’d dealt a huge blow to Jared’s pride, his manhood and intrinsic self-belief. Knowing this left her so frustrated. Where did they go from here?

 
Jared knew it all now. He knew about her parents and the years afterwards. He knew about his mother’s black heart.

  Did the world stop, Winsome?

  No, Dr Cartwright, the world hadn’t stopped.

  Neither had Jared reacted as his mother had predicted all those years ago.

  Life had gone on, as normal. They slept together, made love almost every night but neither could they surmount the last invisible barrier neither was prepared to breach.

  Winsome paused, leaning on the metal extension pipe of the vacuum cleaner, staring into space. How could they breach that barrier?

  Your lack of trust was the first sin. Lower your pride. Apologise for your lack of trust, in him, in his love. Jared may have failed you, but you gave him no chance to fix what was wrong.

  She gave a shuddering sigh. And in a fit of absolute frustration, she aimed a punch at the inoffensive wall.

  Her fist connected.

  Pain exploded up her arm.

  It splintered in a spray burst of excruciating sensation. Colours danced behind her eyelids.

  “Idiot,” she yelped shaking her arm trying to ease the searing ache from her maltreated limb. Leaning limply against the wall she massaged her knuckles and seeing the discoloured flesh, gave a rueful grimace.

  “And some people do that for fun?”

  As far as she could see punching walls didn’t ease any tension, it just created a whole new parameter of pain.

  Did you ever think that perhaps that’s the whole point?

  “Shut up Dr Cartwright,” Winsome muttered, rolling her eyes heavenwards. “Just get the hell out of my head.”

  Muttering darkly, she went on with her task.

  Outside the suite of rooms Gaelen and Harvey had used, she paused, fighting the sick sensation.

  Whenever she had to clean here, it still took all her resolve to open the door and enter this apartment. For weeks after she’d come back, she avoided this wing of the rambling old house like the plague.

  No matter how much she’d reasoned with herself that they were just empty rooms, how could they hurt her? Just putting her hand on the door handle was enough to chill her to the bone. Slowly feeling as if evil would escape; Winsome turned the door handle and walked inside.

  “See,” she said aloud as she went from room to room, “it’s just empty space.”

  Suddenly she felt a draught of cold air.

  The hair stood up on her arms and the back of her neck. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart stopped and then leaped within the confines of her chest.

  “Hello Winsome,” drawled a familiar, hated voice.

  Not so empty space.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes fixed on the lethal looking revolver Gaelen held. Was it a toy?

  Wood splintered in the door frame. Winsome yelped. The acrid smell of cordite hung in the air.

  “No, it’s not a toy.”

  Show no fear, girl. The gruff voice steadied her ballooning panic. Control freaks feed on fear.

  “Mummy? Mummy? What was that noise?” Lacey shrieked, racing down the corridor and skidding to a halt, eyes wide with fright. “She’s got a gun.”

  “So Quentin’s daughter has a few clues.”

  Ears ringing, Winsome refused to react. Gaelen expected her to panic, to grovel, to plead, and would savour her fear.

  Slowly, making no sudden moves, Winsome pulled Lacey behind her. The child’s unusual docility betrayed her terror as she leaned into the shield of her mother’s body.

  “Why are you here?”

  Gaelen’s harsh jagged breath was loud in the fraught stillness. “This is my home.”

  Winsome’s heart ricocheted around her chest.

  Gaelen’s eyes had the unholy glitter of madness. Mottled colour flooded her neck and face. Could reason prevail?

  “Not any more. You have a home in Hamilton, on the hill overlooking the lake.”

  Gaelen’s throat worked and she appeared to grow in size. Winsome was forcibly reminded of a turkey gobbler fluffing its feathers and fanning its tail, to keep intruders at bay.

  Keep her talking, girl.

  “What use is a big home?” Gaelen voice rose. “You and Quentin have poisoned my son’s mind with your lies?”

  Lies? Gaelen thought Matthew’s death was a lie? Winsome forced down anger. She needed a clear head.

  “Mummy, do you want me to go and get Daddy?” Lacey whispered.

  She patted the child’s shoulder. She would give anything to see Jared walk through that door.

  “I’ll persuade Jared to visit.” The lie rolled easily off her tongue.

  “You think you’ve won.” Gaelen advanced, waving the gun wildly. “Harvey thinks he’s beaten me.”

  Winsome’s heart ka-boomed in her chest. This was about Harvey? She was so sick of his manipulative mind games.

  “Why would he need to beat you?” Would playing the dumb innocent work?

  “He never wanted me to have any part of Totara Park.” Gaelen’s breathing was harsh. Her breast rose and fell in agitation as she waved the gun around.

  Winsome never flinched.

  “He wanted my money to save his precious acres. He wasn’t too proud then to link my name with his.”

  Jared had told her Harvey married Gaelen for money.

  “He used it too. Millions. And what did he give me back? One piddly house and a bag of money tied up with more strings than you’d find in a whole bloody orchestra.”

  She advanced a step.

  Winsome edged backward into the corridor, mind racing a mile a minute seeking some way of escape. Sweat formed and ran down the hollow between her breasts.

  Jared where are you? We need you.

  “You can use the money for your lifetime, Gaelen. It’s no good after you’re dead.”

  Immediately, Winsome knew she had made a mistake.

  “You fool. It’s not the money.” Gaelen waved the pistol in Winsome’s face, so close it created a draught on her chilled skin.

  “Then what is it?” If she acted dumb would Gaelen soon tire of this game?

  Lacey trembled, little hands clutched tightly at the band of her jeans, pressed so close, she felt her child’s nose through her sweatshirt. She wanted to comfort her, but didn’t dare.

  “Harvey destroyed me,” Gaelen screeched. “For years, Harvey used my money. Did I care?”

  She’d cared. Buried in the madness, Winsome heard a cry of pain. Gaelen had cared too much.

  Dad was working to his own agenda. Jared’s grim words echoed.

  Now she and Lacey were set to pay Harvey’s dues.

  “I didn’t mind. I didn’t love the cretin, I didn’t,” Gaelen raged. “Now he’s after revenge. Could I help it if I didn’t love him?”

  Or had she loved Harvey, and known he didn’t love her?

  Gaelen’s agitation increased and Winsome’s fear grew. Would that gun accidentally discharge?

  “But because I didn’t love him, he’s destroyed my life.”

  “How Gaelen?” Winsome asked soothingly.

  You’re doing great girl. Keep her talking. Draw out all the venom.

  “I’ve lost face. As Mrs Grainger of Totara Park, I was somebody. Everybody looked up to me. Now?” Gaelen waved the gun wildly. “Now I’m a nobody, stuck in a bloody great house perched on a town section. A nobody.”

  This is about power and prestige.

  Suddenly, Gaelen focused on Winsome, eyes hard. She stepped closer.

  “You got your claws into my Jared.” Gaelen’s nostrils flared as she eyed Winsome up and down, a gesture that used to make her break out in a sweat. “You, a nameless orphanage brat with blood so foul it’d choke up a sewer. He fell for your pretty face. Now you have my home and use my name.”

  Fear grew in chilling increments. Winsome breathed slowly. The mad glitter in Gaelen’s eyes was more pronounced.

  Jared. Where are you when I need you?

  “What would Jared do if I ruined that pre
tty face.” She grazed the pistol barrel on Winsome’s cheek. “One touch of the trigger and the side of your face would be blown away.”

  Sweat made her underwear damp, but she refused to cower. “Maiming me won’t give you prestige or power, Gaelen.”

  The arrested expression in her eyes fired Winsome with hope. Perhaps she could talk this deranged woman out of her murderous intentions.

  “I hate it when you’re right. No I’ve other plans for you and your brat.”

  She stepped closer.

  It took all Winsome’s willpower not to shiver when Gaelen waved the gun under her nose.

  “Move carefully and I won’t kill the kid, at least not quite yet.”

  Winsome had never believed the expression about blood running cold.

  She did now.

  Moving slowly, her arm around Lacey, she walked ahead of Gaelen.

  “Down the corridor to the right,” Gaelen spoke close to her ear, “and don’t pull any funny stuff. Or the child dies.”

  Winsome knew it was no hollow threat. Matthew had died at this woman’s hands.

  “You think I won’t?” Gaelen gave a great cackle of laughter, and Winsome knew she had seen her shaken breath. “I was soft enough to feel sorry for Matthew. But in the end it was easy. He looked up at me, with your wounded blue eyes and poof it was all over.”

  A chill slithered down Winsome’s spine. This was the admission of guilt Jared had tried to extract without success.

  Lacey gave a frightened cry, buried her face against her mother. And Winsome knew the little girl understood Gaelen’s words.

  The gun prodded the flesh between Winsome’s shoulder blades.

  “Open the door and go upstairs.” Galen gave another mad cackle as Winsome opened the door to the narrow flight of stairs leading up to the attic.

  “Move slowly and carefully, Winsome.” Gaelen sang off key, “My bonnie, winsome lassie…”

  Fear built. Winsome fought a desperate battle to keep a clear head. To escape this deranged creature’s clutches, she needed one.

  “Keep moving, girl, one false move and I’ll shoot Lacey. How would you like your loving grandma to shoot you, Lacey?”

  Lacey pressed closer.

  Terror inched its way through Winsome as she manoeuvred the little girl ahead of her up the narrow stairs, putting her body between the child and Gaelen.