The House at the Bottom of the Hill

by Jennie Jones

  ‘Could take my boot off,’ Ted said, ‘and bind my ankle.’

  ‘No,’ Charlotte told him. ‘We don’t know what damage you’ve done; it’s best to keep your boot on.’

  Charlotte didn’t know how many minutes it took but enough wetted dust and sandy particles kicked up with each hampered move Ted made to have her choking and coughing. His groans of obvious agony shuddered through her but she kept his left foot and calf lifted in her hands as he moved. When space became a premium, she had to let go of Ted’s leg while he turned himself further. She gritted her teeth and tried not to think of the pain he was enduring. No complaints from him though. Not one.

  ‘Okay, sweetheart,’ Daniel said when at last Ted was turned enough to have his back and shoulders in front of Charlotte.

  Charlotte looked up. She wished he’d stop calling her sweetheart. She wasn’t his sweetheart. And she’d told him she wasn’t talking to him. After they’d got Ted out, she wouldn’t be talking to him any more than she’d been talking to him before. No matter how glorious it was to see him.

  ‘That’s you out, Charlotte. Put your arms up and I’ll pull you up.’

  She lifted her arms above her head and jolted when Daniel took hold of her wrists. She used her hips and legs to kick herself up and winced as her bottom scraped sharp rock. She bit her bottom lip. If Ted could do what he’d done without moaning about it, so could she.

  ‘I’ve got you, Charlotte.’

  She’d feel more comfortable if he called her Red.

  He had his hands under her arms now. He lifted her easily, and she was out and on her feet, fighting the urge to throw her arms around his neck and thank him. To kiss him over and over and tell him how amazingly wonderful and strong he was. But she couldn’t do that because she wasn’t talking to him.

  ‘What the hell were you doing down there?’ he asked.

  ‘He was hurt. He needed water and painkillers and the blanket. I couldn’t leave him.’

  ‘Sit down,’ he told her, and turned for Ted.

  There was enough room for Dan and Josh to put one arm each through the aperture and haul Ted out. He did groan this time as his bad foot trailed on the floor of the cave.

  When they got him out, they laid him on the ground. Daniel took his jacket off and used it as a makeshift pillow for Ted’s head as Josh got water out of his backpack. They washed the dust off Ted’s face, and then gave him sips of the water and another two painkillers. He murmured his thanks and lay back.

  ‘I called the rescue guys after I found Lucy,’ Daniel told Ted. ‘They’re on their way. They’ll have a stretcher. We’ll carry you to the end of the track and then you’ll be driven into town in the back of the rescue ute.’

  Ted lifted his hand and gestured behind him at where Charlotte sat. ‘She was marvellous. Just marvellous.’

  Daniel nodded. ‘You take it easy. Not long and you’ll be home enjoying one of Grace’s fattening lamb casseroles and a pint of my finest ale.’

  ‘Sounds just the ticket.’

  Dan glanced up at Charlotte, stood and walked over to her.

  She scrambled to her feet. ‘He’ll be alright, won’t he?’ she asked as a means of stalling whatever it was he was about to do or say.

  He nodded, then put his arms out and pulled her into his body, cupping the back of her head, holding her face against his shoulder.

  ‘Jesus, Charlotte,’ he said, his voice low and rushed. ‘You feel wonderful.’

  ‘I’m stressed and tired.’

  ‘I know you must be emotional and all that, but you feel terrific.’

  ‘Could you let me go, Daniel?’ Not only was he squashing her bones in his hug, he’d forgotten that she wasn’t talking to him. Had he also forgotten about buying her house from under her feet? He wasn’t getting hold of the key to the front door until she’d had a shower and a damned good cry beneath the hot water.

  ‘I’m so proud of you, Charlotte.’

  He was? Bugger. That almost melted her resolve. ‘Don’t forget I’m not talking to you.’

  ‘Looks like we’re even on that bet,’ he said, ignoring her warning and running his hands down her back until they landed on her bottom. ‘Tight,’ he said. ‘I figure you could run five K easily now. Probably more.’ He grinned at her, looking boyish and relieved and too bloody gorgeous for her torn emotions.

  ‘Get your hands off my bum,’ she said, struggling to loosen herself from his hold. ‘And I have no intention of running all the way back to town.’

  He squashed her even more, his arms like a vice. ‘I’d carry you if I had to.’

  ‘No need. I’m fine.’

  ‘You scared the life out of me.’

  ‘You can let me go now.’

  ‘Got so worried, I hit a bloke.’

  ‘What? Daniel—let me go.’

  ‘He deserved it, mind you.’

  ‘Daniel!’

  He let her go. ‘What is it? Where are you hurt?’

  Charlotte pushed him in the chest. ‘I’m not hurt. You were squishing me too hard.’

  He stepped back, mouth open in some sort of bewilderment. ‘I’m trying to take your mind off your experience.’ He pointed at the cave. ‘I know what it must have felt like for you after your … after what you went through as a kid. I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life.’

  Charlotte halted the words of remonstration on the tip of her tongue. She hadn’t been frightened in the cave. Not a jot. It wasn’t Daniel’s fault he thought she might have been scared. He knew about the little girl hiding in the darkened wardrobe, but he didn’t know the whole story. He didn’t know how she’d fought all her grown-up years to hide her fear. And how could she explain to him what she’d felt, or how her terrors had faded in the dark of a cave, lying next to Ted and tending him?

  These were the emotional issues she’d be taking with her when she left. And she was leaving. She’d made up her mind because there was no choice. She was leaving Daniel and taking her love for him with her. Never to be revealed to anyone.

  ‘I’m not talking to you,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t care. I was worried.’

  He would have been. They’d all been worried. Charlotte had been worried, why else would she have tramped into the night to help? Daniel’s kind of worry had tethered her to Mrs J’s house, not because he didn’t believe she had enough gumption to do something on her own but because he wanted to show her his manly, protective side. The side she couldn’t face. What was the point when she was leaving?

  ‘Maybe we’ll talk later.’ She turned and walked over to Ted and Josh.

  ‘You’re damned right we’ll talk later,’ Daniel called after her.

  Bugger. Now she’d pissed him off again.

  Charlotte hadn’t been in Kookaburra’s when it was open for business, and she’d bet Daniel a ninety-K run he’d never had so many people in his bar in the entire six years he’d been in town.

  Neither was it normally open for business now, at 5.30 a.m, but Daniel’s coffee machine was thrumming and throwing off enough steam to drive the Flying Scotsman as Josh made coffee for anyone who wanted it. Lily moved back and forth from the kitchen with fried egg and bacon sandwiches as though her life depended on making sure the townspeople were fed and fattened.

  Charlotte sipped her flat white, the taste welcome in her mouth and the caffeine hitting her veins in a much needed blast. How much love from a reserved, resilient community not big enough to be defined as a town could one outsider take? She hadn’t accepted a fried egg sandwich because it reminded her too painfully of Grandy. She wouldn’t be able to swallow any food anyway—her stomach was twisted in knots of anxiety.

  Everyone was in the bar, even townspeople she’d hardly seen, and those who lived further out. Ira and Julia offered a loving picture as they stood together, little Lochie asleep in Ira’s arms. Charlotte didn’t think Grandy had much to be concerned about if he was looking down at his granddaughter.

  Tiredness, sadn
ess and bewilderment filled Charlotte’s consciousness. The chatter around her was all about Grandy, baby Edie, Ethan, Ted—and Charlotte.

  ‘Absolutely splendid effort,’ Ted said to Ray Smyth and Mrs J—and everyone else in the bar. His twisted ankle hadn’t affected his vocal cords. ‘Top notch, if you ask me. She didn’t bat an eyelid—just popped on down beside me.’ He’d been placed in an old wheelchair Mrs Tam had retrieved from the Town Hall. Ira had tended Ted’s injuries, delighting everyone with his knowledge of first aid and Ted’s leg was now propped up by a plank of wood and duct tape from Morelly’s. ‘Although there was hardly any room for her,’ Ted added.

  ‘Might be time to go on that diet I’ve been harping on about for the last year,’ Grace told him, her hand on his shoulder as she sat on the arm of his wheelchair. Ted simply patted her hand.

  ‘What a night.’ His voice lowered. ‘We’ll never forget this night. Not any of us.’

  Charlotte huddled into a wing-back armchair and decided she didn’t want to dwell on the events the town would never forget, since she’d had a hand in all of them.

  ‘Best get on with it then,’ Mrs J said loudly, bringing everyone in the room to silence. ‘Firstly, we’d like to thank Charlotte for everything she did tonight.’

  People murmured their responses but Charlotte didn’t want any thanks for what she’d done for Ted. Anyone would have done the same.

  ‘We’ve lost Grandy,’ Mrs J continued, sorrow diminishing her usually crisp tone. ‘But it looks like we’ve found family, and Grandy would want us to acknowledge that, and not our loss of him.’

  Bobbing heads and quiet calls of ‘hear, hear’ swept around the room. Charlotte wondered how they’d celebrate Grandy’s life. They were bound to have an additional ceremony after the funeral, maybe a remembrance service at the Town Hall.

  ‘We’ve got little Edie to welcome home in a couple of days,’ Mrs J said, and then paused in what Charlotte decided was a dramatic manner. ‘And we’ve got two brothers who have only just found each other. So let’s get this out in the open now before rumours spread.’

  Charlotte hissed in a breath and gripped her coffee cup.

  ‘Here’s the story,’ Mrs J said, ‘and I’m going to make it succinct. Grandy had an association with Ethan’s mother and that’s none of our business.’ She challenged her audience with a stare but no-one spoke. ‘What is our business is our duty of care to everyone in this town, so what I’m saying is, we let Junior and Ethan sort out their new family ties in their own way, and we don’t interfere.’

  ‘Are they talking?’ someone asked. ‘Or arguing?’

  Mrs J stabbed the man with a glare. ‘They’re brothers and they’re supporting each other the way their father would expect them to.’ She took her pointed gaze off the man and directed her attention back to the other townspeople.

  Charlotte snuck a look at Ted, surprised he hadn’t piped up. He was still frowning but he didn’t look tortured or annoyed, he looked keenly perceptive, his focus entirely on Mrs J as though she was the captain to his commander, which, Charlotte supposed Mrs J was.

  ‘We all thought Ethan’s father was Thomas O’Donnell,’ Mrs J said, ‘and we all know what he was like and what he did. He caused trouble and pain for the Granger family—and for many of us in town—with his drinking and his disgraceful physical abuse of Ethan’s mother, and of Ethan himself. But that’s in the past and the Grangers have helped us move towards the future. We don’t forget that.’

  Appreciation and wholehearted acceptance sang around the bar.

  ‘We’ve also got old news to discuss.’

  Charlotte bit into her bottom lip.

  ‘Mrs J.’ Daniel stepped from the bar and walked through the gathering. ‘How about we do this later?’

  ‘Later won’t fix rumours, Daniel. I want this out in the open and understood.’

  Oh, bugger. Charlotte’s skin flushed in mortification.

  Mrs J leaned up to Daniel and spoke quietly in his ear. Daniel nodded, mouth pursed but obviously agreeing with whatever she’d told him. He stepped back and glanced over at Charlotte. Concern creased his brow but he dipped his chin to her, as though telling her it would be okay.

  Charlotte stared into her coffee cup, willing herself somewhere else. His frustration at her for not talking to him wasn’t helping her to understand what he might be trying to say.

  She glanced up. Daniel ran a hand over his now bowed head, his other hand on his hip, looking as though he loathed what Mrs J was about to say as much as Charlotte would. But he didn’t speak up or try to stop Mrs J from going on.

  ‘So.’ Mrs J put her hands into the pockets of her body-warmer. ‘Turns out we have more than blood ties to deal with today.’

  Here it comes, Charlotte thought.

  ‘Turns out that Charlotte Simmons was also a victim of O’Donnell’s abuse.’

  Charlotte squeezed her eyes closed.

  ‘The man killed her mother when she was a child.’

  ‘You saying she’s the kid who hid in the wardrobe?’ someone asked.

  ‘I remember that,’ said another. ‘We had the police down here asking questions.’

  Charlotte didn’t need to open her eyes to know that all eyeballs in the room had rotated her way.

  ‘And we’re not going to discuss the particulars,’ Daniel said, his voice loud enough to stop the chatter.

  ‘So why did she come to Swallow’s Fall?’ someone asked.

  ‘Did she know about Ethan and Grandy?’

  For the first time ever, Charlotte didn’t hear disparagement in the voices, but a genuine interest.

  ‘I said we’re not discussing the particulars.’ Daniel’s voice had firmed as though he was talking through gritted teeth. Charlotte didn’t know, she still had her eyes closed. Every muscle in her body was tense.

  ‘Yes, we are discussing particulars, Daniel,’ Mrs J said. ‘From what I’ve gathered after talking on the telephone to both Ethan and Junior, and from the conversation I had with Charlotte while we were looking for Ted …’

  Charlotte opened her eyes. She hadn’t discussed her history with Mrs J.

  ‘It’s common knowledge O’Donnell murdered a woman who had a small child,’ Mrs J continued. ‘We all know that because we lived through the nightmare of O’Donnell and had to answer to the police all those years back when they were looking for him. It was a relief when he was killed.’

  More murmurs, but otherwise, Mrs J had a rapt audience.

  ‘Charlotte bought the B&B and arrived in town without having a clue what she was heading into.’

  Charlotte sucked her breath in and held it.

  ‘The poor girl discovered she was in the town her mother’s murderer had lived in. Imagine the terror of that. A coincidence, certainly, but one that was fortuitous for us. The B&B will be up and running again soon, and as we’ve all signed consent for the tourist manifesto, the B&B will prove a worthy addition to our town. So thanks are due, again, to Charlotte.’

  Oh no. Charlotte struggled with her conscience as Mrs J poured fabrication onto fabrication. The B&B would never be up and running.

  ‘I’m buying the paint.’

  Charlotte stared at Ted.

  ‘For the B&B,’ he said. ‘Yellow paint.’

  God bless him, but he was too late.

  ‘But Dan bought the house, didn’t he?’ a woman asked. ‘Wasn’t that what they were arguing about before Grandy had his heart attack?’

  ‘That’s between me and Charlotte,’ Dan said. ‘We’ve got some things to discuss.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like none of your business,’ Daniel said.

  ‘I’m still buying the paint,’ Ted chimed in, and slapped the arm of his wheelchair. ‘Whatever colour.’

  ‘There’ll be no changes to anything until Charlotte says there can be.’ Daniel stepped forwards. ‘And there’s something else you all need to know, since we’re stemming a flow of rumours.’ He pulled his shoulde
rs back and heaved in a breath. ‘I’ve got plans underway to turn Kookaburra’s into a proper hotel.’

  The entire room stilled.

  Charlotte looked straight ahead of her. The blinds were open on Kookaburra’s big windows and the dawn glowed through the glass in tones of hazy lemon-yellow. She didn’t want to be a witness to Daniel’s explanations of how or what he intended. Didn’t want to know what he’d be using the B&B for either.

  She put her cup of coffee onto a table beside her armchair and slowly stood.

  Nobody noticed as she walked carefully along the perimeter of the restaurant area, snuck behind the bar and made her way down the back corridor. She opened the door, stepped out into what might be her last day in Swallow’s Fall and walked along the alley to the B&B. She had no idea what she would do next. Except head for the shower.

  Twenty-Two

  Dan waited for the squall. He’d seen Charlotte slip out the back and wanted to run after her, but he had to deal with this first.

  Silence still. Perhaps they hadn’t understood him.

  ‘I mean a proper hotel,’ he said. ‘Open all day. Seven ensuite bedrooms. Paying guests.’

  ‘We know that,’ Ted said.

  Dan swung to him. ‘You know?’

  ‘We’re cautious, not daft.’

  ‘I didn’t know,’ someone piped up.

  ‘Well, you know now,’ Mrs J said.

  ‘I mean a real hotel,’ Dan said, swinging his arm at the doors and indicating the street. ‘Tourists tramping around the town seven days a week.’

  ‘Can I have a job?’ a young voice asked.

  Dan looked across at Gemma Munroe, standing next to Lily.

  ‘Of course you can,’ Dan told Gemma.

  ‘Can I change my working hours to daytime instead of evening?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Anything you want, Lily.’

  ‘I’ve always wanted to work behind a bar,’ an older resident said, thumbs hooked into his braces. ‘Wouldn’t mind a part-time position, since we’re all putting our hands up for one.’