Willow Tree Bend

by Kaye Dobbie

  ‘Everything feels very tranquil,’ she said, and heard the awkwardness in her voice. Now that the camera wasn’t on her, she was struggling to keep up the pretence. She was exhausted, and her head ached, and she was worried about Faith and Joe, about Samantha and Lily, and about the skeletons that were lurking behind closed doors, just waiting to spring out at her.

  There were potted herbs on the windowsill, with a gap in the middle for the cat to sit, something it was taking advantage of right now, with its back turned and its twitching tail dangling in the sink. She thought about reaching out to stroke it, except Lincoln’s cat didn’t seem very approachable, unlike Samantha’s dog.

  That memory made her smile. Samantha had been terribly embarrassed, but actually it had been quite funny, or it would have been if everyone hadn’t been quite so tense.

  Lincoln took down some mugs and proceeded to make her an instant coffee. He didn’t even ask or say sorry he didn’t have a machine—it was as if he didn’t think there was a reason to apologise. Despite his New Age musician image, he was an old-fashioned man. She wondered what had made him decide it was a good idea to hide himself away here in the cottage.

  ‘I love your sculptures,’ she said, taking a lighter note. ‘Do you buy them locally?’

  He smiled. ‘I make them myself. A hobby. I took it up after I moved here. Sometimes it’s good to remember that the reason you started doing a thing was for the sheer joy of creating something from your imagination. Easy to lose sight of that fact when it becomes a source of income.’

  Like acting, Hope thought. Anyway, she didn’t regret her life’s work, and she’d be a hypocrite if she said she did. It had been everything to her at one point, her entire reason for being. She’d wanted to be a Hollywood actress, and to a degree she had achieved her ambition.

  Her personal life was another matter.

  She had almost married three men and yet she struggled to remember why. Loneliness perhaps, and the need to connect, and in at least one case to further her career, so yes, ambition. But in her heart she knew that no one had ever taken the place of the boy she had fallen in love with when she was sixteen.

  Lincoln set down the steaming mug in front of her, and then glanced towards the door. ‘Should I …?’

  ‘No, leave them. I think we all need a moment.’

  His eyes held hers and then slid away. He took his own mug and stood, silhouetted against the sunshine slanting past the cat in the window, and sipped in silence.

  Hope breathed in the smell of the coffee and closed her eyes. This was nice. A bit of calm. Who would have thought she’d find it here, in the cottage where so many turbulent events had taken place? But then she reminded herself that there were plenty of good memories to be had too, it was just that she seemed to be concentrating on the bad.

  ‘I didn’t want to come home,’ she heard herself say, and then wondered why she should choose this complete stranger to unload to. Perhaps it was the atmosphere in the room, so comfortable and relaxed, and she sensed he was a man who would keep her confidence. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t going to tell him anything that could damage her.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked curiously, taking another sip.

  ‘When I walked away I told myself I’d never come back. Well I did. I’ve been back twice. Once when my father died, because I felt I should, and again ten years ago, to move my mother out of this cottage. Then this job turned up. I thought it sounded like a good idea, fly in and fly out, no hassle. Well, you can see how that’s working for me.’

  ‘Still,’ Lincoln said, ‘it must be nice to see your family, and for them to see you. Blood is thicker and all that.’

  ‘Is it? My sister and I were close a long time ago, but the last time I was here she seemed like a stranger. She was strung so tight I thought she might twang if I touched her. And this time … she’s gone off to Queensland on some quest or other, and it’s all my fault. Don’t tell Joe that,’ she added, all at once anxious.

  He frowned. ‘I won’t. Not that I’d expect him to come and ask. That was Joe, was it, the pissed-off guy? He’s your sister’s husband?’

  ‘Yes. He’s not usually like that. He’s … well, I always thought they’d end up together. When she was seventeen she thought she wanted more, and she went off to Melbourne to find it. Got in with some dubious people, and when she came home she seemed … damaged. Joe was so good—it was him who healed her and made her whole again. But I’m wondering now if maybe there was someone else all those years ago. Unfinished business.’

  ‘The past has a pull to it. Sometimes it’s difficult to escape.’

  It sounded as if he was speaking from the heart.

  ‘Yes. I’d prefer mine to stay on the dark side of the moon, where it belongs.’

  He laughed. ‘And yet you’re making a program about your past, your life. Aren’t you going to tell all? I’ve seen a few episodes of Looking Back. They like to delve in depth.’ He grimaced. ‘Wouldn’t be my choice. Aren’t you worried they’re going to find out things you’ve kept hidden for,’ he cocked an eyebrow, ‘forty years?’

  She smiled. ‘Thank you, but closer to fifty. And I don’t plan to suddenly blurt out the name of the boy who took my virginity.’

  He smiled back, but there was nothing flirtatious in it. He wasn’t interested in her in that way and she didn’t blame him. She rather thought that he’d been attracted to Samantha, which would make for an amusing little side show. Samantha, from what Faith had told her, had been hurt a couple of times and had sworn off men.

  ‘Hope?’ It was Prue, standing in the doorway and watching her warily. Her pink hair was a nimbus in the sunlight. ‘Are you ready to continue? We need to be in Golden Gully in half an hour.’

  Hope beamed a smile. ‘Of course. Where do you want me?’

  As she walked out she gave Lincoln a wink. She could see he was amused, but then he knew a little about fame himself and how important it was to keep up the illusion.

  It didn’t take long to finish filming at the cottage, everything went smoothly, and then they drove back to Golden Gully. There were a few people about, nudging each other and watching as Hope stood outside the bakery where she used to have a casual job, trying to look pensive. When it was time to reminisce with the new owner of the pub, she gave her fans a smile and a wave, and there was a cheer. The publican looked barely old enough to have been born when she left, but all the same he was obviously flattered to have been asked—probably keen to see his premises on national television.

  There had been plans to have Hope and Faith together in the dessert shop, but Prue had ditched that, so the final cameo was to be in front of the old Cantani milk bar. Not for any particular reason, other than that it looked quaint.

  ‘We’ll have a voice-over, obviously,’ Prue explained, ‘but if Ken can shoot you sitting on the seat there. I believe it was in the Cantani family for many years?’ She’d evidently been researching, or someone had.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  The small crowd had mostly dispersed while she was inside the pub, and Hope took up position by an old horse trough planted with colourful flowers. The sun was warm on her back and she began to feel sleepy. It had been a long day with plenty of drama, and it wasn’t over yet. She still had to talk to Samantha and Joe.

  ‘That’s perfect,’ Prue said, and even Ken managed to look happy—she liked him even less after his run-in with Joe. ‘We’ll leave it there.’

  Relieved, Hope stood up, smoothing her slacks, and that was when she heard the voice.

  ‘Hope? Is that you?’

  She turned. There was a middle-aged woman coming towards her, her smile so wide it threatened to split her face in two. As she drew closer Hope could see her skin was tanned from sun exposure, and her hair was home dyed an improbable blonde.

  She knew she should probably recognise her, but her mind went stubbornly blank.

  The woman had reached her, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head, and still sm
iling. She was wearing shorts and a thin cotton shirt knotted at the waist, making Hope, in her expensive clothing, feel like an alien from another planet.

  ‘It’s Lena,’ she said. ‘We were at high school together. Don’t you remember me?’ Her smile had begun to fade now and her eyes had an embarrassed look.

  Lena.

  Hope did remember, hazily, and was finally able to play the part expected of her. ‘Of course!’ she gushed. ‘Lena!’

  Lena hugged her with relief. There followed a conversation about her movies and how Lena never missed one of them, and how excited she was to see her, and how everyone in the town had been so looking forward to her coming back.

  ‘You’ll be staying, won’t you?’ Lena said breathlessly. ‘I mean, you have to. Everyone will be wanting to see you. You’ll stay and catch up? I’m having a barbecue tomorrow night. It would be wonderful if you came. Everyone would be so excited.’

  The thought of a barbecue where she was guest of honour filled her with dread. Hope thought about saying an outright ‘no’, but it seemed safer to use Prue. She glanced at the girl, and Prue recognised the silent cry for help.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lena, but Miss Taylor has a very tight schedule. We have to get back to Melbourne and do more filming there. I’m sure she can catch up another time if you give her your number.’

  Lena’s face fell. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘My number.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Hope moved closer. ‘I would come, but you can see how hard they’re working me. And they’re paying the bills.’ She laughed.

  Lena stared at her. I thought we were friends, her eyes seemed to say. ‘That’s okay,’ she said, though her voice was cool now. ‘I should have realised you wouldn’t want to hang out with me anymore.’ Then, with a flash of malice, ‘Are you going to tell them about Pete?’

  That was the moment when Hope remembered why she had never considered Lena a friend, not a real friend. Because she was a gossip, and a vicious one. It had been Lena, that hot summer’s day, driving by with her mother. Lena, who had put two and two together, and proceeded to spread the nasty rumours. It had only taken a day and the story was all over town.

  Hope had just told Lincoln Nash she wasn’t going to blurt out the name of the boy who had taken her virginity.

  Now Lena had.

  FAITH

  August 1969, St Kilda

  Detective Inspector Avery had been gone for quite some time before Faith felt able to stand up and walk to the door. Even when she opened it, she paused to listen, not quite trusting the silence. The elevator had finally stopped making the journey up to the Penthouse and down again, and she supposed that meant everyone was gone—Kitty, too. To where, she wasn’t sure.

  The memory of the photograph had refused to go away, that shocking image of the young girl gazing at the camera as though she’d removed herself from her sordid surroundings by sheer force of will. But of course the explanation might be much simpler—that she’d taken a drug to blunt the sharp edges of her world.

  Melanie.

  Physically, she looked a lot like Faith—and Kitty—and Faith found that deeply disturbing. Imagining herself playing a part in such a scenario made her skin crawl. And then there was Avery. She had read in his face that he wanted justice, and he was prepared to stop at nothing to get it. Even conduct a raid on a nightclub that was supposedly protected by Jared’s faceless bosses and their tame policemen.

  Faith shivered as she walked along the corridor to the landing. She asked herself what she would do if they’d arrested Kitty. She had never known anyone who had been arrested and the mechanics of getting them freed were a mystery to her. In the police series Homicide, which she sometimes watched on the Cantanis’ television, there was always a lawyer ready to pull strings, but Faith didn’t think that in real life it was quite that easy.

  Slowly, she began to make her way down the stairs and into the shadows that lay at the bottom. The Mezzanine was empty and so was the Cocktail Lounge. A car went past outside, its headlights raking through the windows. Faith wasn’t sure how late it was, but she knew she should go home to bed.

  And yet she hesitated. She felt shaken and jittery, and she knew she would find it difficult to sleep alone in her room. The thought of Kitty was nagging at her—it was only due to her cousin’s quick thinking that Faith hadn’t been hauled into the Penthouse and questioned too. She wondered if she should ring Kitty’s family and tell them what had happened. But she was positive that Kitty would be furious with her if she did that, and more than likely see that she lost her job. With no job and no place to stay, she would have to go home.

  And yet, wasn’t telling on Kitty the right thing to do?

  Her mother had always drummed into them the importance of doing the ‘right thing’. Rightness, integrity, these words were all part of her moral code. But now, standing in the darkness of the Angel, she wasn’t at all sure what the ‘right thing’ was.

  The broken glass was in a pile on the floor where she’d left it. Perhaps she should sweep it up? She was just looking around for a dustpan and brush when a voice spoke right behind her.

  ‘Hello, luv. Where is everyone? I wondered if I had the right place.’

  ‘Ray!’ She spun to face him, and stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. There was an ache in her throat and the terrible urge to cry. She tried to stop it, but it was too powerful, and seeing him after all that had happened was such a relief …

  With a sob, Faith ran into his arms.

  ‘Hey, what’s this?’ He tried to see her face, except she only burrowed deeper into his leather jacket. ‘Faith, what’s wrong? What’s happened?’

  He’d forgotten his Liverpool accent, only Faith pretended not to notice. The fact that his voice was concerned, and the hand cupping her cheek gentle, that Ray Bartel cared … Well, that was enough for her.

  The meltdown only lasted a short time, and reluctantly she extracted herself from his embrace. She took a deep breath, her hand shaking as she wiped away her tears. ‘There was a police raid,’ she told him in a husky little voice.

  Ray’s eyes widened. He looked around, as if expecting to see some evidence—broken chairs and bruised bodies. ‘Was anyone hurt? Faith?’

  ‘No, I … I don’t think so. They were more interested in the Penthouse. There was a party going on up there and they took people away. Kitty and—and Jared. I don’t know whether or not they’ve been arrested. I was just wondering what to do, whether I should call a … a … lawyer or …’

  ‘But you’re all right?’ Ray asked, watching her, a frown between his brows. Without his sunglasses, he looked tired and his dark eyes were bloodshot.

  She wondered whether to tell him about Avery’s offer, then immediately decided against it. Why should she, when she had no intention of ever taking him up on it? And anyway, wouldn’t Ray tell Jared? She was certain the manager wouldn’t be happy to hear one of his staff had been approached by the police, and if what Avery had said was true, and he was just a front man for the Angel’s criminal backers … No, better not to mention it to anyone.

  From somewhere inside she dredged up a smile. ‘Yes, I’m all right.’

  He smiled back, straight into her eyes, and then he picked up a strand of her hair, winding it around his finger. ‘Poor pet,’ he said, and the fake accent was back. ‘Why don’t you come with me over to the Queens? We’re having a late session there, just a few friends, nothing heavy. You can watch us. Relax. What do you say?’

  Faith knew she wanted to. Desperately. And she really, really didn’t want to go home. What if Kitty wasn’t there? And what if she was? Facing her after the scene upstairs, knowing what Kitty was involved in … Faith just didn’t know how she was going to do that. Ray’s presence was like a balm, a way to set aside her problems for a little while.

  ‘But what about Kitty?’ Her voice was a little breathless.

  He pulled a face. ‘She can look after herself. And she has Jared, hasn’t she?’

&
nbsp; It was as if he was giving her permission to stop thinking about her cousin’s predicament and the Angel and everything that had happened.

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Good. Are you coming, then?’

  He must have seen his answer in her face because he grinned and wrapped an arm around her. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

  This wasn’t like the Allnights’ usual stuff. Faith had grown used to the upbeat songs they belted out in the Cocktail Lounge, songs you could swing your hips to as you served drinks to the customers. This was slow and dreamy, and she curled up on a seat in the corner, half asleep, and watched through the haze of smoke as Ray and his band lost themselves in their music.

  There were only a few people left at the Queens, but no one wanted to go home. And Faith was glad to stay on with them, letting the traumatic events of the evening float away as, influenced by the late hour and the number of illicit whiskys the band had consumed, the songs got more and more laid-back. By the time they finished their last set, Faith felt completely relaxed.

  It was tiredness that caused her light-headedness as they swayed home, arms around each other, taking up the entire width of the street. Ray was telling a story about their trip away, the others jumping in to add to the tale, each addition making it more and more preposterous. She couldn’t stop laughing.

  When one of them stumbled, everyone lurched to the side, and it seemed very funny. Their merriment echoed around the silent buildings and Faith was filled with a warm, foggy sense of contentment. She wanted to hold on to it and not think about anything that might intrude on what was beginning to feel very much like happiness.

  Ray’s digs weren’t that far away from her own. Once inside she could see that the place was messy, with stuff scattered everywhere, just as you’d expect from a house full of boys who worked late into the night and slept most of the next day. But Faith didn’t care, the chaotic atmosphere suited them, and they treated her like a kid sister, teasing her one moment and asking her if she was okay the next. At last the rest of them went off to bed, and it was just her and Ray, alone in the living room.