Cross My Heart

by Pamela Cook

  Leela flashed a brilliant-white smile, her teeth almost blinding against her beautiful olive skin. ‘We call him our third son. It’s an honour to be invited to celebrate his birthday.’

  ‘Nice to meet you both.’

  Raj nodded politely then turned to Max. ‘Where’s that brother of yours?’

  ‘Staying out of the way so I don’t give him a job, I’m betting.’ Max pointed towards the stable block. ‘You’ll probably find him in his office.’

  Raj headed off and Leela clasped her hands together. ‘Now, Max, what can I do to help?’

  ‘Everything’s done. Cake is in the fridge, skewers are marinating, salad is made, party pies and sausage rolls are in the oven ready to go.’

  ‘Any other kids coming?’ Tess had no idea about the plans for the night, but for a kid’s birthday party it seemed unusually small.

  Max heaved a sigh and shook her head. ‘Nope. Toby is a bit of a loner at school. Although, you wouldn’t know it right now.’ Across the yard, the four kids were running around in circles chasing each other, squealing like banshees. ‘I used to think it was because he doesn’t have a father, like it was somehow my fault, but I’ve come to realise it’s just his personality. He keeps to himself, apart from Sanjay and one or two others, so he only wanted something small. He and Grace have really hit it off, though.’

  ‘I know, it’s so weird.’

  Leela gave Tess a puzzled look.

  ‘Oh, I mean it’s just that Grace is really shy, too,’ Tess explained. ‘Or at least I think she is. So it’s odd that two such quiet kids would connect as well as they have.’

  ‘Not really.’ Leela’s tone was soft and lyrical, rather than argumentative. ‘They probably feel comfortable, understand each other.’

  ‘Is Sanjay a quiet one, too?’

  Her laugh was loud and not so gentle. ‘Oh my goodness, no. He is much livelier, wouldn’t you say, Max?’

  ‘Totally. Life of the party. All the kids love him, so he can pick and choose who he hangs out with. Luckily, he likes hanging out with Tobes.’

  ‘That’s because Toby is divine.’

  ‘Can’t argue with that.’ Max positively glowed. ‘I’d better go check the oven. Saint Tobias will murder me if I burn his party pies.’

  Toby did seem like a great kid, but Leela was the one who was so heavenly it was hard not to stare. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous, her smoky eyes rimmed with kohl accentuating the shape, shiny black hair flowing down her back. She would not look out of place on a catwalk. What was someone like her doing living in a backwater like Weerilla?

  ‘Something you said before has me curious.’

  Tess dragged herself out of her girl crush. ‘What was that?’

  ‘When you said you think Grace is a really quiet kid. Would you not know this?’

  ‘Oh … well, I suppose I should.’ She kept forgetting that people didn’t know about the connection—or lack of it—between Grace and her. ‘She’s only been with me for a few weeks. Her mother and I were friends, but we hadn’t seen each other for a while before she died.’

  ‘So sad.’ Leela shook her head. ‘Max has told me a little about Grace’s circumstances. Such a horrible thing to happen to a young child. Still, she’s lucky to have someone like you. Children are such a blessing. And our greatest teachers if we’re willing to learn.’

  A high-pitched wail reached them from across the other side of the yard.

  ‘Oh dear, that’s my Yash. Always in the wars. He was sent to teach me patience. Excuse me.’ She gave a slightly exasperated smile and headed off in the direction of the noise, practically floating across the grass. Whatever had happened seemed not to be life-threatening, the initial scream now dulled to a light moan, an occasional sob thrown in for effect.

  Sometime during their conversation, almost as if a switch had been flicked, night had fallen, and torches were being waved around in the same vicinity as the commotion. The troops were rallying. Should she go to help? Leela hadn’t seemed too concerned. Probably better to leave her to it. She was one of those serene, wise women who always seemed to know the right thing to say, although the pronouncement that Grace was lucky to have such a wonderful guardian was certainly way off the mark. Her comment about children being teachers was curious, something Tess had never heard before.

  What lessons could she learn from Grace?

  If she was willing.

  She really had to stop stuffing herself. Or do some exercise. Or both. Dinner was amazing—melt-in-your mouth steak, jacket potatoes cooked in hot coals and doused in butter, garden-fresh salad all washed down with perfectly chilled glasses of wine for the adults and plenty of green cordial for the kids. Max had refused any offers to help clean up, claiming there was little to do except clear the table full of dishes and plates, which she bribed the kids into doing with the promise of toasted marshmallows. Job done, they returned to the fire and sat, sticks in hand, waiting angelically. Grace sat by Toby’s side, the flames casting an orange glow across her face, bringing a healthy radiance to her pale skin. She hadn’t said much during dinner, but she seemed happy to listen in on the boys’ conversation, completely content.

  A mood that was apparently contagious. The pre-dinner sav blanc had been followed by another of shiraz and the sultry notes of the wine hit just the right chord. Mitch had brought out his guitar and was strumming away quietly after they’d all sung a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. Leela and Raj, it turned out, ran a local catering business specialising in home-cooked food with an Indian flavour. Raj was also the local computer repairman and together they had plenty of amusing stories about their experiences of small-town life. They didn’t exactly fit the traditional demographic, but they’d been accepted into the community with only the occasional poorly disguised slur. Max didn’t miss the opportunity to tell a few embarrassing stories about the birthday boy, who took it on the chin and retaliated with a few mum stories of his own. No one grilled Tess about her life, so it was easy to sit back and enjoy the company and the conversation. She didn’t have to be anywhere, and there were no deadlines, meetings or messages to answer. For the first time since leaving Sydney, she was actually relaxed.

  ‘Right, two more each then you lot have had enough sugar for the next decade.’ Max presented the bag of marshmallows to each of the kids before offering them to the adults. It would be rude not to take one.

  This was a whole new learning curve. Tess pushed her marshmallow onto a pointy stick, stuck it into the fire and waited. It came out charcoaled and bubbling and she shoved it into her mouth too soon, burning the tip of her tongue, then had to swig the last of her wine as an remedy. Once everyone had devoured their share of the sticky sizzling sweets, the Singhs bade them all goodnight and the kids retired inside for a movie, Max excusing herself to supervise the selection.

  She should probably head home, too. But the fire was hypnotic and it was Friday night, and it wasn’t like there was anyone waiting for them back home. A gust of wind sent a shiver through her body despite the duffle coat and scarf she was wearing.

  ‘Cold?’

  ‘A little.’

  ‘Hop up a minute.’ Mitch rose from his seat beside her.

  She moved to the side while he dragged both their seats—chunks of tree trunks fashioned into stools—a little closer to the fire. He threw a couple more logs on top, sending a shower of sparks dancing into the air.

  ‘Thanks.’ She sat again, the scent of smoke filling her nostrils and the heat of the flames warming her cheeks. She tipped her head back. Stars filled the sky for as far as she could see, strewn like glitter across the dark blanket of night. If she reached out her arm surely she could touch one.

  ‘Not bad, is it?’ Mitch too was gazing upwards. ‘Guess you don’t get to see it like this in the city. Too many lights.’

  He was so right. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.’

  ‘Never been camping?’

  ‘Uh-uh. We were more o
f a resort type of family when we went on holidays. Mum didn’t like sand. Or dirt. Or rain.’ She laughed. ‘Must be where I get my preference for hot showers, shopping opportunities and a cafe on every corner.’ Funnily enough, she missed none of them.

  She didn’t have to look sideways to know Mitch was studying her. Probably thinking what a shallow piece of work she was. She kicked at a rock by her foot.

  ‘It’s good you came tonight.’ Where was he going with this? She kept her eyes trained on a chunk of white-hot wood smouldering in the bottom of the fire. ‘Toby enjoyed himself. He liked having Grace here.’

  Okay. All good. ‘I think she had fun, too.’

  ‘She’s a great kid.’ He picked up a stick and poked at an ember that was threatening to fall from the pit. ‘She’s doing so well with the learning.’

  ‘How can you tell?’

  ‘The way she’s managing the tasks I’ve given her, her confidence with the horse.’ He tossed the stick into the fire and brushed his hands against the leg of his jeans. ‘The discussions we’ve had after her sessions.’ His eyes shone. ‘Have you noticed any changes in her behaviour? I know it’s only been a couple of days.’

  ‘Nothing I can put my finger on, but she does seem more … settled? Maybe a little less sad.’ She couldn’t bite back the sigh. ‘She still won’t let me in, though.’

  He glanced across at her, his voice low. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

  He was going to whether or not she said yes, so she turned towards him and waited.

  ‘That first day when you came and I suggested the two of you have sessions together … you practically ran out of here before I’d even finished talking.’

  The blush scalding her neck had nothing to do with the fire, not that he’d be able to see it beneath her layers of clothes. She’d been an idiot that day, had behaved like a child. He’d have to have been deaf, dumb and blind not to notice something was wrong.

  ‘What are you afraid of?’

  She leaned forward, pushing all her weight into the balls of her feet, and stared into the embers. Vibrant orange, throwing off so much heat her face felt like it too was on fire. No matter how long she looked, the answer to Mitch’s question wasn’t there: it was locked deep inside her heart.

  Mitch’s face was a blur, but she knew he was watching her. Waiting. This was someone she could trust. Someone who genuinely wanted to help, if she could only find the courage.

  She turned away. Tendrils of flame licked at the blackened stump fuelling the fire.

  ‘It might help if you joined in on Grace’s sessions.’ His voice was a murmur, dulled by the crackling coals. ‘Help you both.’

  She closed her eyes, drew strength from the warmth pulsing through her limbs, from the idea of finally being free. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘I’m sure of it.’

  She looked across at him, and for a long minute they held each other’s gaze. She hadn’t answered his initial question and he hadn’t pushed for more. But they’d started the conversation, and for now, that was enough.

  Grace was a complete nerd when it came to school work and Sundays were no exception. For a ten-year-old, the kid was super disciplined, following the timetable her mother had established without deviating. Occasionally, she accepted an offer of help and they’d work through a maths problem or a word definition together, but all in all she was pretty self-sufficient. Maddeningly so. It left an overabundance of time for Tess to wash and scrub and sweep, clutching the broom handle tighter each time she found herself anywhere near the old wardrobe. She’d lost track of the number of books she’d finished on her Kindle since she’d come out here, a luxury she usually only had time for on holidays, and the perfect distraction for a wayward mind. Diving into someone else’s story was much more innocuous than revisiting her own.

  Right now, she was skimming through the chapters of a historical romance. It was her current preferred genre, devoid of anything too disturbing, but cerebral enough to keep her mind engaged. Even the YA and fantasy books she generally favoured were too heavy on the dark stuff these days. It was so much easier to get swept up in a civil-war saga or take a turn around the room with Elizabeth Bennet.

  Buddy, the magpie, landed at her feet, bobbing his head like a dashboard figurine. Food, please. He hopped along the verandah before lunging into the garden to nab a worm, holding up his prize for show-and-tell.

  A noise from inside turned her head. Was she hearing things or was that the tinkling of piano keys? Grace hadn’t played since that day before the funeral. The Wizard of Oz would forever now be tainted. Hopefully, this time she’d play something different. Tess pressed an ear against the weatherboards. One chord and then the next. Ba da da da bom bom bom bom bom bi dom, ba dom bom bom bom bom. It was vaguely familiar. She hummed along, stringing the notes together. That was it! ‘Baby Elephant Walk’. Her fingers played along on an imaginary keyboard, racing ahead of the laboured tune. When the playing stopped, then started, then faltered again, she jumped to her feet, pushed open the door and peeked inside.

  Grace sat, shoulders rounded, her mouth puckered like a prune as she frowned at the yellowing sheet music. Tess closed the door and stood motionless, considering her next move. This could go either way, but she had to give it a shot. Not daring to breathe, she walked across the room and stopped beside the piano, waiting there until finally, Grace glanced up.

  She motioned to the vacant space on the bench seat. ‘Okay if I sit?’

  Grace shifted across, leaving just enough room.

  Was this a good idea or would Grace think she was showing off? Only one way to find out. ‘I used to play this one. It’s fun but a bit tricky. Would you like some help?’

  With Grace’s head bowed, it was impossible to read her expression. Her hair fell over her shoulders, the long ringlets like silken corkscrews, begging to be touched. The room was deathly quiet. A few specks of dust shimmied into view, as if an invisible hand had given the curtain a shake. They bobbed through the air, floated past and disappeared from view.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  A small win; a tiny rush of joy. Tess wiped her palms over her thighs before she rested them on the keys. ‘It’s been a while, but let me see if I can remember.’ Tentatively she picked out the first few treble notes, beginning to find her way after a couple of bars. ‘Hmm, not bad.’

  A glimmer of a smile in Grace’s eyes. ‘Can you do both hands?’

  ‘Let’s find out.’ She peered at the notes, lifted her left hand to join her right and started again, tentatively at first and then a little quicker, fingers moving almost of their own accord as the jaunty rhythm came back. Muscle memory must really be a thing. She jerked her shoulders in time with the notes as she made her way through the first page and onto the second. Beside her, Grace also began jigging away, her leg bouncing up and down, and her fingertips tapping on her knees. ‘Your great-grandma taught me how to play this, you know. On this very piano.’ The words slipped out before she could censor herself. She watched Grace keenly to gauge her reaction.

  ‘Did she really?’

  Play and talk. Just play and talk. ‘Uh-huh. She taught your mum and me after school.’

  ‘Mumma said she always wished she’d kept learning. That’s why she was teaching me.’

  Tess played on, her fingers suddenly stiff and clumsy as she concentrated on her rendition. She’d avoided mentioning Skye ever since the funeral, couldn’t stand to see that glazed, tortured expression haunting Grace’s eyes. But right now, there was no sign of the torment accompanying any earlier references to her mother, so she pushed a little further. ‘Well, she was right. I wished I’d kept learning, too.’ She launched back into the song, pressing the keys harder, emphasising the beat more clearly. ‘Can you guess why it’s called “Baby Elephant Walk”?’

  Grace shook her head and actually looked interested in knowing the answer.

  ‘Picture a baby elephant hanging onto its mother’s tail with its trunk. This is th
e rhythm they keep as they walk.’ She slowed down, emphasising each note. ‘Bom bom bom bom … see?’

  Grace jumped off the seat. Reaching out her arms and lacing her fingers together, she lowered her head and marched around the room in time to the music, swinging her joined arms from side to side, stomping her feet to the beat.

  ‘Yeah, just like that.’ Tess quickened the pace, playing faster, somehow remembering the notes without looking at the keys. Grace sped up her actions, marching from one side of the room to the other and back again, collapsing onto the bed in a fit of giggles as the last bar of the song was played.

  Without even thinking, Tess shot up from the piano and launched herself onto her back beside Grace, holding her sides as she laughed along. ‘You are the best baby elephant I’ve ever seen.’

  They lay there side by side, their chests rising and falling almost in unison until they’d both caught their breath. Grace rolled so she was facing Tess, their noses almost touching. ‘Can you teach me how to play it like that?’ Her cheeks were cherry-blossom pink, her eyes shining with an effervescent light.

  ‘Of course I can.’ Tess pushed herself upright, the bed creaking with the movement.

  Grace sprang up and grabbed her hand.

  They sat together at the piano. When Tess looked down at the black notes on the sheet, the heads and stems blurred, wriggling on the page like tiny tadpoles. The words she wanted to say caught in her throat, but inside, her heart was singing.

  Twenty

  Tess had chewed her cuticles so hard a couple had started bleeding. God knows what Grace thought of her juvenile habit. Thankfully, the little girl was too preoccupied with her own excitement about seeing the horses once again. Tess’s feelings about their joint session at Affinity were exactly the opposite. If an animal darted across the road right now, it would definitely end up as roadkill because if she stopped, there was a good chance she’d make a U-turn and head straight back home. Most of the drive passed in a fog, her concentration completely focused on just getting there. When she pulled to a stop outside the stable block she couldn’t even remember arriving, let alone opening the gate and coming up the driveway. This might have seemed like a good idea under the moonlight when she’d had a couple of drinks and the fire was making her head swim, but in the bright light of day it was already feeling like a huge mistake.