Willow Tree Bend

by Kaye Dobbie

  According to Kitty, Jared had never asked her to participate again. ‘Never’ was a long time. Faith wondered how her cousin could be sure that he wouldn’t, one day. If he was put under pressure for another favour? Kitty might end up like Melanie, dead in a packing crate.

  Faith worried at the situation like a dog with a bone.

  Not that there weren’t still plenty of good times. She and Kitty could have a good laugh, and when Kitty asked her over to her parents’ house for her younger brother’s birthday, it had been almost like old times. Although it made Faith feel homesick for Willow Tree Bend.

  ‘I bet you’ll go back to the country,’ Kitty said, as they sat in the tram on their way back to their digs. ‘A lot of girls come into the city thinking it’s going to be so exciting, and when they find out it’s not for them, they can’t wait to get home again.’

  Melanie didn’t.

  Faith bit her lip to stop herself saying the words. The wind blowing through the tram was freezing. The warmer, enclosed section was full of passengers, and they’d had to make do with the seats near the open doors, gritting their teeth in the arctic conditions. She dug her chin into her scarf and longed for a hot cocoa.

  ‘Mum says that Aunty Lily shouldn’t have divorced your father. She thinks marriage is for keeps.’

  Faith snorted. ‘She might have changed her mind if she’d been married to him. He had that many other women around town, I think he must have had a roster so he could remember whose turn it was!’

  ‘Do you ever see him now?’

  ‘No, and I don’t want to. He came to visit once a few years ago and Mum had the shotgun out. I thought I was in an episode of the Beverley Hillbillies, seriously.’

  Kitty was laughing, her breath white in the freezing air. ‘Jared hasn’t asked me to marry him,’ she admitted, with a glance that was almost shy. ‘But he will. I know it.’

  ‘And are you going to say yes?’ Faith asked her, holding on to the seat as they turned a corner, the wheels squealing on the tracks.

  ‘Maybe.’

  She’d say yes, of course she would. Faith sighed inwardly. ‘There are plenty of other fish in the sea,’ she said. ‘Jared’s a bit old for you, isn’t he?’

  ‘He’s a mature man,’ Kitty snapped. ‘I’m over boys.’

  It began to rain, the misty sheets gusting into their carriage, so that they both shrieked and shifted further along the seat.

  ‘What you were saying before, about country girls,’ Faith went on at last, more soberly. ‘I do miss Mum. And Hope.’

  ‘And Joe,’ Kitty murmured knowingly.

  But that wasn’t something Faith was prepared to admit to.

  Gaz was serving up one of his huge breakfasts to the two girls. They were laughing over some silly story—a customer from last night—and Gaz was smiling back as he sipped his huge mug of milky tea.

  ‘He tried to climb over the bar, did you see him?’ Kitty was in full swing. ‘He poured more bourbon over himself than in the glass, before he dropped the bottle.’

  ‘He wanted ice,’ Faith put in. ‘He said we didn’t do it properly.’

  ‘Lenny had to drag him out by his feet. They left him in the lane at the back to sober up. He’s gone now. I had a look first thing.’

  Faith smiled. ‘Probably went home wondering why on earth he stank of bourbon.’

  ‘He was lucky,’ Gaz said, and something in his voice had changed. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Last guy who tried to do that … Jared took him out the back himself and punched the shit out of him. Haven’t seen him since.’

  A sudden silence lay between them, thick and uncomfortable. Kitty swallowed her mouthful of food, but her face was flushed and when she lifted her gaze to Gaz it was bright with anger.

  ‘You don’t know anything about it,’ she hissed. ‘You’re just repeating gossip.’

  Gaz leaned back in his chair, his massive chest and shoulders covered in a clean white tee-shirt. His fleshy face reminded Faith of a bloodhound, and his eyes were so bloodshot they only added to the image. And yet there was something about being in Gaz’s presence that always made her feel safe. She liked him, and she didn’t want to see him on the end of one of Kitty’s tongue lashings.

  ‘Kitty, I was here,’ Gaz reminded her, suddenly serious. ‘I know what happened. When he’d finished, Jared put the bloke in a car and someone drove him to the hospital. Dumped him near the doors. I’ve heard him laughing about it a few times and I’m sure you have too.’

  ‘It’s a joke. He likes to make people laugh so he exaggerates. He gets carried away.’

  ‘It happened.’

  Faith thought Kitty was going to start accusing him of lying, but she didn’t. Instead, she pushed her plate violently away, food spilling onto the table. Shoving her chair back, she stood up.

  ‘Jared wouldn’t do that,’ she said, her voice tight. ‘He took him to hospital because he was worried about him. He didn’t have anything to do with hurting him.’

  Gaz nodded slowly, watching her. ‘You tell yourself that,’ he said quietly. ‘If it makes you feel better.’

  For a moment Faith thought her cousin was going to hit him—her hands were clenched by her sides and she was obviously fuming—but then she spun on her heel and was gone.

  Faith set down her knife and fork neatly on her own plate. ‘You shouldn’t have said that.’

  Gaz laughed roughly. ‘Why? Because it’s true?’

  ‘You upset her.’

  ‘If she wants to hide her head in the sand like an ostrich, then that’s her problem.’

  ‘She won’t listen to you. She wants to believe Jared is a good man.’

  ‘I keep remembering her as she was when she first came here, Faith. Sweet and innocent. Like you. Well, maybe not quite as sweet or as innocent,’ he teased. ‘But the Angel has changed her. Jared has changed her. She got swept up in it all and now she’s in a fast car on a single-lane highway, and God knows where she’ll end up.’

  ‘You make it sound as if …’

  ‘Jared’s been in a bit of trouble since the raid. I’m not saying he doesn’t care for Kitty, I think he does, but he may not be able to protect her for much longer.’

  Faith stood up, and all the emotions she’d been trying to suppress fizzed in her head. Kitty was in love, Faith reminded herself bleakly. She was under Jared’s spell, and although Faith wasn’t sure how to release her from it, she doubted Gaz’s heavy-handed approach was going to work.

  ‘You’re right, she needs to get away from here.’ She was talking to herself. ‘Maybe if she had some time away she’d be able to see things more clearly.’

  Gaz nodded. ‘So, tell me Faith, how are we going to do that, any ideas? Know anyone who can help us out?’

  It seemed as clear as day that Gaz knew about Detective Inspector Avery—maybe because he himself was one of Avery’s informers. Looking into his tired bloodhound eyes, she could see the solution to her problem. She had to talk to the policeman, find him the information that would put Jared in prison and help him solve Melanie’s murder, and set Kitty free.

  ‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘How can I?’

  Gaz’s eyes wouldn’t release her. ‘Only you can answer that one, Faith.’

  Faith was working in the Cocktail Lounge, when the Honourable Hubert Dalzell sat down at a table in the alcove and ordered a whisky.

  Someone else had taken the order, passing it on to Faith, and she only recognised him as she was bringing it over. He looked more like his photograph in the newspaper than the man she had seen in Golden Gully with his family, where he was usually out of his suit and more relaxed.

  Bert Dalzell was in his late forties or early fifties, only a little taller than her and solidly built. His dark hair was greying at the sides in that distinguished way some dark-haired men manage to achieve, and he had a thick moustache. He reminded Faith of one of those politicians of old—his was the sort of face you might see in a history book, or on a bank note
.

  She knew he had married a Melbourne heiress, and they had three children—two girls and a boy—who went to a posh school. Sometimes in the holidays she’d see the kids slumming it at the milk bar, the girls giggling at Pete and Joe in the way that girls do when boys are good-looking.

  Faith knew he wouldn’t recognise her, so she wasn’t worried he’d try to make conversation. At home, they thought Bert Dalzell was a ‘good bloke’ and called him a local. Even Lily admired him, and she wasn’t a pushover when it came to politicians. Until Kitty had told her about Dalzell’s criminal activities, Faith had admired him, too.

  She was bringing the whisky over to him when Jared appeared. ‘Faith,’ he said, and took hold of her arm. She didn’t like him so close, but she knew she couldn’t pull away without spilling the whisky, which meant she’d have to pay for it.

  ‘What is it, Mr Shaw?’

  His voice was low in her ear and he was wearing a smile that never reached his eyes. ‘Mr Dalzell will have his drinks on the house tonight. To show our appreciation.’

  Appreciation of what? wondered Faith, but she nodded and tried to move away.

  ‘And Faith.’ He held her, trapped. ‘Kitty says you’re giving her a hard time. Stop it.’

  Faith opened her mouth and then closed it again. What could she say?

  If I’m giving her a hard time it’s because I want her to leave here and get away from you, Jared.

  He finally let her go, and Faith continued on her way to the alcove and Bert Dalzell.

  ‘Thank you.’ Dalzell took the glass off the tray, at the same time reading the name badge pinned to the front of her tight black sweater. His gaze went back to her face and seemed to linger, as if he was enjoying the view. ‘Thank you, Faith.’

  Her skin prickled with unease. Like him or not, she had to admit he was an attractive man. Charisma, that was what it was called. He had a way of captivating his quarry—she’d seen him doing that during news interviews or up on the Mezzanine when he was having dinner with other people nearly as important as himself. Always the centre of attention, the one everyone else was looking at and wanting to be. And now he was focusing that charisma on her and she felt distinctly unsafe.

  ‘Where’s the delectable Kitty?’ he asked, looking past her shoulder, and it was only then that she realised Jared had followed her over.

  ‘Sleeping in,’ Jared said, his voice low and syrupy. ‘I thought she deserved it.’

  Dalzell laughed softly, and something passed between them.

  ‘You’re a lucky man,’ he said. ‘Kitty is a girl in a million. I hope you appreciate her.’

  ‘Of course.’ Something about Jared made Faith think he was no longer quite so relaxed.

  ‘I’ll never forget that night. The special surprise for my birthday. Do you remember?’

  Jared smiled, but again his eyes remained cold. Whatever he was remembering didn’t make him happy. ‘Special surprises like that don’t happen very often, Mr Dalzell.’

  ‘Well obviously not. Otherwise they wouldn’t be special, would they? Special surprises for special customers, eh? All the same, I hope I will prevail upon her for a repeat.’

  Jared looked even more uncomfortable. Then he glanced sideways, as if he’d forgotten Faith was there, and his eyes narrowed. He seemed to be making up his mind about something, and to her astonishment he gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. ‘Faith is Kitty’s cousin, Mr Dalzell. Can you see the resemblance?’

  ‘Really?’ Dalzell’s eyes widened, and he gave her a slow smile. ‘Well I can, now that you mention it.’

  ‘Enjoy your evening, won’t you?’ Jared spoke affably, and with a final look at Faith, walked away.

  Why did she feel as if Jared had just used her to bait his hook, and now he was waiting for Dalzell to bite? Faith set down the whisky.

  ‘You’re a pretty girl, Faith.’ Dalzell’s voice brought her back to the moment. ‘Jared always finds the prettiest girls for the Cocktail Lounge. He prides himself on it.’

  ‘I’m quite good at serving drinks, too, Mr Dalzell.’

  He sat up straighter and she realised she should have giggled and pretended to enjoy the flattery. By standing up for herself, making him see her as a person, she had increased his interest.

  ‘Do you know where I’ve been today, Faith? In Spring Street making laws. It’s a tiring business.’

  ‘Is it, Mr Dalzell?’

  ‘Oh yes, very. I need a diversion. Do you think you might be able to divert me for an hour or two?’

  Faith wondered if she could say no and that would be an end to it. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be, that he would see ‘no’ as a challenge. She decided it was far better to try to turn his thoughts elsewhere.

  ‘Haven’t I seen your photo in the newspaper?’

  He liked that. He straightened his tie as if she had stroked him. ‘I could tell you all about it, Faith, but we need somewhere quieter than this.’

  Faith looked about her helplessly. She didn’t want to say no, she really didn’t. She knew Jared wouldn’t be happy with her and she might lose her job, but at the same time there was no way she was going anywhere ‘private’ with Bert Dalzell.

  ‘Mr Dalzell!’

  It was Kitty, looking smashing in a stinging yellow sweater and white miniskirt, her fair hair smooth and shiny, and her mouth outlined in pale-pink lipstick. Faith watched her approach, feeling like a prisoner who had just been pardoned.

  ‘Jared should have said you were here,’ Kitty scolded, smile firmly in place.

  ‘He said you were sleeping.’ Dalzell smiled into her eyes. ‘I didn’t want to disturb you, Kitty. And your cousin was passing the time with me. We were just about to find somewhere quieter so I could fill her in on the mechanics of governing the country.’

  Kitty shot Faith a look.

  ‘Actually, I have someone I’ve been saving for you, Bert,’ she said, turning her attention back to the politician. ‘She’d love to meet you. Come with me and I’ll fetch her.’

  She held out her hand, still smiling, and after a moment he stood up and tucked Kitty’s hand into the crook of his elbow. She snuggled close and said something that made him laugh. As they walked away he slid a sideways glance at Faith that turned her blood cold.

  It felt like a promise, or a warning, that he wouldn’t forget her.

  And then Kitty looked back, too.

  She wasn’t angry, Faith realised, and neither was she annoyed. She was worried, and quite a bit frightened. She’d diverted Dalzell’s attention away because she didn’t want Faith to be alone with him. She was protecting her, just as she had on the night of the raid.

  But who was protecting Kitty?

  Faith made up her mind at that moment. There was no longer any question. She was going to agree to do what Avery wanted.

  SAMANTHA

  15 January 2000, Willow Tree Bend

  Hope seemed rather subdued when she came back from her visit with my grandmother. One of the girls from Cantani Desserts had picked her up from the supermarket and then dropped her home, so I hadn’t had to break off from my own work. I thought she might want a cuppa and a chat, but she said she was tired and, after she put the groceries away, went to lie down.

  I spent most of my day working on the plans for Jason and Derek’s garden, and was happy with the result, although it needed more. I had a vision, as the quote goes, but it wasn’t quite there yet. There was a garden-design computer program I knew about, but I still preferred the old-fashioned method, with pen and paper. I had a desk in my spare room, all set up, and Mitch and I spent a lot of time in there with the fan going and music playing. Not Black Crow, well not often anyway, although I still loved the songs from my teen years.

  At one point, I thought I heard Hope talking on her mobile phone. By the time I got back from feeding and watering my animals, she had showered and was bustling about in the kitchen. I told her about my spur-of-the-moment invitation to Lincoln and she didn’t seem fazed.<
br />
  ‘Well done,’ she said, with a little smile, but I wasn’t brave enough to ask her what that meant. Instead, I launched into the details of Estelle’s fundraiser, and finished with a request that she show up—‘Just for a few minutes. You don’t have to be there for very long.’

  I felt my heart bumping as I waited. I just knew she’d say no. She was probably trying to think of some excuse, or maybe she had several of them she kept on hand and right now she was choosing the best one.

  Hope was busy marinating some meat and she didn’t even glance up. ‘Sure. I’ll see what I can do.’ She re-read the recipe she had propped up on the bench. ‘I asked Looking Back if I could stay on for a few more days, but they want me back in Melbourne tomorrow. They’re even sending a car.’ She grimaced. ‘But after they’re done with me, I’ll come home. No hurry to get back to the States.’

  So ‘home’ was here now, was it? Interesting. And interesting that she didn’t even seem to realise that she’d said it.

  ‘Oh, okay. Thank you so much, I didn’t … well, I wondered if you’d want to do it.’

  ‘The fundraiser? Of course I want to do it. No, it’s your grandmother who worries me. And Faith.’ She stopped and gave me a look. ‘Have you heard from her? Has Joe heard from her?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘If we haven’t heard from her in the next few days I think Joe should report her missing.’

  My eyes got bigger. ‘Is that a good idea? Dad won’t want to and … I mean, he says he knows where she is and why, so she’s not really missing, is she?’

  Hope frowned. ‘She could be in some sort of trouble,’ she retorted.

  ‘Mum can look after herself.’

  ‘Yes, that’s a common misconception.’

  What did she mean? I watched her pouring oil into a measuring spoon and wondered: Should I tell her about my odd idea? I’d been mulling over it all day while I was drawing up the plans, remembering the photo and what Jason had said, and then rerunning it over and over in my head.

  ‘When I was at Jason’s to look at his garden, he was talking about the family who used to own his property. Their name was Dalzell.’