The Shifting Light

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The Shifting Light Page 18

by Alice Campion


  ‘For moi?’ asked Lachlan.

  ‘Actually, for you and moi,’ she smiled.

  Lachlan pulled the immaculately wrapped present from the bag, undid the ribbon and began ripping it open. Lingerie, black silk. ‘Perfect – I’m not sure it’s my size, though,’ he laughed.

  ‘I can guarantee you it fits me rather well. No, your real present is still in there.’

  Lachlan raised his eyebrows. Sure enough under all the packaging was a box. He opened it slowly.

  A watch, gold. Rolex. Must be worth a couple of grand at least.

  ‘Hilary – I’m speechless.’

  ‘Hmm, that’d be a first. It’s not a big deal really. I noticed yours was looking a bit worse for wear. Go on, put it on.’ Hilary watched, smiling as Lachlan clasped it around his wrist.

  ‘Honestly, you’ve spent far too much.’ He leant over and kissed her deeply on the lips.

  ‘What’s money for if you can’t enjoy it as you want?’ She shrugged.

  ‘You have a point there,’ said Lachlan. ‘But it’s still, well – no, you are amazing.’

  Hilary smiled at him. ‘Matches your Valentino shirt. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your new look. Very smart.’

  ‘Seriously,’ said Lachlan, leaning closer. ‘The way you run the business, keep up with the show-jumping, your community stuff – all that work you did for that amazing heritage ball …’

  ‘Please, don’t remind me,’ said Hilary, rolling her eyes but she looked pleased.

  ‘I’ve said it before. You can’t help it if other people don’t have your drive and imagination. Wandalla – the whole district – owes so much to you. I can only imagine how hard it must’ve been for you after Phillip died, yet off you went and took on the whole business by yourself, keeping Paramour ticking over, the cotton, making sure all of those people relying on you for work still had their jobs …’

  ‘Really, Lachlan – it’s not that hard.’

  ‘I know it seems to come naturally to you, but that’s just the point. There are few people who could take on so much and do it all so well. Some men might find it intimidating.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ laughed Hilary.

  ‘But not me. I think you’re bloody amazing.’

  Hilary said nothing.

  ‘I’m rabbiting on, aren’t I?’ He smiled at her.

  ‘Well, yes. But I’m rather enjoying it.’

  Lachlan reached for the bottle and poured them both more wine. ‘I just wish …’ He sighed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh – old thoughts. I wish my mother’d had just half a chance to make a go of her life like you’ve done.’

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘Yes. She was the oldest Larkin in her generation. But The Springs went to Nina’s grandfather.’

  ‘Harry.’

  ‘Yes. Mum got nothing just because she was a woman. It was the way things were done then. Her younger brother got the lot. The men got everything just for the virtue of having balls.’

  ‘And I don’t?’

  They both laughed.

  ‘Anyway, that’s water under the bridge – I’m just so glad Nina’s making a real go of things, provided she’s not swayed too much by Heath.’

  ‘Oh, he’s harmless enough,’ sniffed Hilary.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that. I know his ideas are popular in some circles but this water stuff could bite hard, particularly with Paramour.’

  Hilary studied the coffee table.

  ‘Listen to me carrying on,’ said Lachlan, shaking his head as he moved to the fireplace. ‘You of all people don’t need my advice. I’m sure you can see how Heath Blackett’s ideas may impact on this place. It’s more Nina that I worry about.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hilary carefully. ‘Don’t misunderstand me. I would never underestimate him. Or anyone else for that matter.’

  ‘Great. Good to hear it.’

  Hilary swallowed the last of her wine. ‘Well, perhaps you’d like to stay here a minute while I try on your present,’ she said as she picked up the silk sheath from the packaging.

  Lachlan grinned. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Give me five and head upstairs.’

  ‘I will. Exactly five.’

  As Lachlan watched Hilary walk up the stairs he felt himself relax. She was warming to him – more than warming to him. Thank god – he needed another opportunity, now that Nina was so cagey.

  That watch. He would have to Google it. See exactly how much she had paid.

  He looked at the photograph of Phillip on the mantel. He may well have been an astute businessman but he had also looked more like a tortoise. Bald head, beaky lip. Insipid.

  No wonder she was softening.

  Lachlan whistled as he pulled into the drive at The Springs. What time was it? Late. After midnight. Yet he wasn’t tired, he felt strangely elated. Everything was finally going his way. He turned off the ignition and spent a minute or so admiring his watch. No doubt about it – Hilary was besotted after their weekend together. A wave of power swept over him. He had found his prey, hunted it down and got what he wanted. Pretty soon, he and Hilary could make things official and money, power and respect would be his. Now he had her just where he wanted her, he could breathe a bit easier.

  He got out of the car and walked towards the house in the moonlight. Images of tonight’s farewell scene flashed into his head. God, they were good together. He pictured Hilary, back arched, begging him to enter her. He felt a familiar tingle in his groin.

  The creak of the screen door announced his arrival. But no-one was there. Nina would be over at Kurrabar and Izzy wasn’t … hold on. Her door was ajar.

  Lachlan strode down the hall to her room. She was in bed. Naked by the look of that bare thigh. He stood there for a few seconds before he realised she was looking straight at him.

  ‘Lachlan?’ Her voice was husky with sleep, but she was up for it. He could tell.

  ‘God, you look sexy,’ he said, leaning against the door frame. ‘Like Venus.’

  She laughed and held out her hand. ‘Come join me then. I’ve missed you. A lot.’

  A tiny voice sent him a warning but he ignored it. He needed this. A delicious dessert after the red meat of Hilary. And Izzy wanted him. It wouldn’t be right to resist. He let her pull him to the bed and undo his fly.

  As her lips fell on him, all his cares fell away. He deserved this. He felt stronger than he had ever felt before. Harder. He pushed her back on the bed and heard her gasp as he felt for her. Then he was inside, his need urgent. He thrust hard and harder till the pleasure burst inside of him.

  It was quick. The thought of it almost made him laugh. He didn’t care. Nothing could touch him now. He was invincible. Vindicated. He could do as he liked.

  He rolled off her and stared at the ceiling, panting, satisfied. Sleep should come easily. Time to head to his own bed.

  Then her hand was reaching for his chest, her lips seeking his. Hungry. She was muttering something. He was hot, he suddenly needed space. He pushed her hand away.

  ‘Night,’ he said. ‘And thanks.’ He started to gather his clothes.

  ‘What?’ Izzy’s voice quavered.

  ‘I said goodnight,’ he repeated. ‘That was, well, great.’ He reached the door.

  ‘Goodnight?’ It sounded like she might cry. All he needed. Now she was sitting up, her breasts exposed.

  ‘Look,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘You probably shouldn’t have asked me in.’

  ‘I didn’t. You walked in,’ said Izzy, her voice low.

  ‘Um, whatever. I thought you would’ve gotten the picture. After all, we’ve hardly been together. Tonight was, well, it was nice. But I can’t promise anymore. I don’t think I can offer what you want.’

  She said nothing.

  Lachlan sighed. Another miscalculation. ‘I guess we shouldn’t have – I shouldn’t have …’

  Izzy lay back down on the bed and turned away from him.

  Why
did she have to be home tonight? ‘I’m sorry if you’re upset. Really sorry.’

  Silence.

  ‘You won’t tell Nina, will you?’

  Nothing.

  He turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

  Tell Nina? Tell Nina? As if she would tell anyone.

  Izzy let the tears drop silently down her cheeks.

  There must be something wrong with her to always end up with men like this. Did he see something in her that made him believe she would take whatever he dished out? Would she ever learn?

  Lachlan had seemed different. But then they had all seemed different – at first. Only this time, things were much worse. She had to share this place with him and Nina for at least a week each month.

  Nina, as good a friend as she was, would never be able to understand how she had become tied up with Lachlan in the first place. How could she understand? She had Heath.

  Izzy sighed and rolled onto her back. There would be no sleep for her tonight.

  She was dreading tomorrow. She knew the drill. There’d been too many like him. It would be awkward, embarrassing for a while and then, gradually, whenever they saw each other, Lachlan’s eyes would become mocking, then perhaps hostile or, worst of all, pitying.

  She would somehow have to make light of everything, utter nothing but small talk until she could somehow extricate herself from this place that she had grown to really love.

  Such a fool.

  In the six weeks since the ball Lachlan had been avoiding her. So why make herself available when he entered her room, obviously just on a whim?

  Because she was pathetic, that’s why.

  Because she had wanted that closeness, to feel his desire.

  And here she was again. All alone.

  CHAPTER 18

  Things had changed. Nina used to look at him with gratitude, with confidence. Now those green eyes of hers seemed clouded with doubt and every conversation was cloaked in elaborate politeness. Lachlan leaned back and put his feet on the desk. The cattle had been a serious misstep, he could see that now.

  That fucking told-you-so, know-it-all man of hers. Riding with him in the truck to the McNallys to negotiate about taking on the extra stock had been purgatory. Heath had stared ahead silently, ignoring every attempt at conversation, the ugly scar on the side of his neck bright purple. After everything he had done, thought Lachlan, surely he was entitled to one little mistake.

  From the room next door, he could hear Nina moving around, the clink of her jars and brushes. It surprised him how much her mistrust hurt him. Not just because it set his goals for The Springs back, but because after so long being out of favour, her friendship had warmed him, made him feel like a different way of living might be possible.

  His phone rang. Unknown caller. Maybe it was the courier people with his new shoes.

  ‘So, you’re alive.’

  Holy shit. Stephanie. What did she want?

  ‘I got a new number. Why haven’t you been answering my calls?’

  ‘Steph.’ He cleared his throat. ‘How you going?’

  ‘Like you care,’ she began. ‘If you really want to know, crap. And things got even worse last night.’

  Lachlan sighed inwardly. His wife’s angry tones grated on every nerve. ‘Oh, really?’ he replied neutrally.

  ‘Really. Two thugs turned up here, pushed their way inside, demanding to know where you were.’

  Lachlan’s breath caught in his throat.

  ‘Are you there?’ demanded Stephanie.

  ‘Yes. Are you all …’

  ‘One of them was called Richie. Said you owed him money and it was way overdue.’

  ‘What did you tell them?’

  ‘What the fuck do you reckon? I said you owed me a heap as well and if they caught up with you they should remind you of that.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘What else could I tell them? I said I hadn’t seen you for months and I had no idea where you were hiding your sorry arse. And I don’t want to know.’

  ‘Steph, I’m sorry.’

  ‘You have to promise me they will never, ever come around here again, Lachlan. I am dead serious. I’ve had it with you and your shit.’

  ‘No, I’ll see to it. I promise. I …’ A sudden thought hit him. ‘Steph, you’re not calling from the landline, are you?’

  ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I?’

  Lachlan hung up, his heart thumping. They could have a tap on the phone and be able to trace him. He leapt to his feet and fumbled in the desk drawer for the key to the gun cabinet that stood by the door of the office. He had only ever seen the rifle used once, when Nina had taken out a brown snake in the backyard.

  He picked up the heavy .22, hands slippery with sweat. He carried it and a box of ammunition outside to his car and opened the boot.

  Dinner was finished, but it seemed the night had just begun, with the artists showing no signs of tiredness after a huge day. They sprawled in chairs around the smouldering campfire near the shearers’ quarters. Clutching glasses of wine and long-necks, they talked animatedly about the day’s events and laughed at each other’s stories. Occasionally there’d be a cry as someone noticed a shooting star or some long forgotten formation in the dazzling velvet sky. This could be a long night, Nina thought, as she watched Lachlan busily topping up drinks … back, at last. He had been elusive through the afternoon and when she had eventually found him, he wouldn’t meet her eye. Was he still embarrassed about the cattle fiasco?

  At least the visitors seemed to be having a good time, she thought, as she brought the last of the greasy plates to Izzy in the kitchen. Sometimes the cycle of feeding and cleaning up morphed into one tedious continuum. And there was something else bothering Nina, though she couldn’t quite pin it.

  ‘I could do with some of those sisters of yours to help out,’ she said, unloading the stack of dishes on the bench top.

  Elbow deep in thick soap suds, Izzy raised her dripping gloved hands in mock horror. ‘Be careful what you wish for. If they were here, there’d be no washing up done. They’d have scattered like wood nymphs,’ she said. And then, more seriously: ‘They’d be no use to you. Each one of us is as fucked up as the rest, just in different ways.’

  ‘That bad?’ asked Nina, picking up a tea towel. ‘I don’t see too much fucked up about you.’

  A tray of cutlery clattered into the sink.

  Nina started to dry the dishes. First Lachlan brooding, now Izzy. She tried to lighten the mood. ‘I wish you could meet Deborah,’ she said. ‘You know, my half-sister, Hilary’s other daughter. She gave me this …’ She held up the crochet-edged ‘I Love Dubbo’ tea towel.

  Izzy nodded with mock solemnity. ‘Nice.’

  ‘You’d get on with her. We were just getting to know each other and then they moved to Tamworth. Hilary was just too much for Matty to deal with.’

  Her friend seemed about to respond but instead turned back to the sink and began noisily throwing the wet cutlery onto the drainer.

  The door banged when Lachlan came into the kitchen. He took a couple of bottles from the fridge.

  ‘All good?’ asked Nina tentatively.

  ‘Fine. Chuck us those marshmallows, will you?’ Lachlan held the bag in his mouth and retreated into the night, bottles clinking in his arms.

  Izzy threw a pot greasy with mushroom gravy into the suds, sending a tide of water slopping out over the sink. ‘Shit.’

  ‘What’s the matter? Want me to take over?’

  ‘No, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess,’ said Izzy.

  ‘We’re nearly done here. How about a hot chocolate?’ offered Nina. ‘Let’s go crazy.’

  Ten minutes later the two sat on the verandah steps with their drinks. A mopoke owl’s mournful call floated across the darkened paddocks.

  Nina sipped and settled into a cloud of sleepiness. She could hear the distant murmurs from the campfire – Lachlan. His words when he first arrived came back to
her: Does Heath realise how you need to be freed up to paint more? Of course he did, at least that’s what he’d said.

  ‘Whatcha thinking?’ said Izzy beside her.

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘You’re so lucky, you know.’

  Nina turned to her. ‘How?’

  ‘Your incredible talent for one thing. Then there’s Heath, The Springs, the business … should I keep going?’

  ‘Ha!’ Nina didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp. ‘Be careful what you wish for,’ she echoed her friend. ‘It might look perfect to you, but …’ She stared out at nothing at all.

  ‘But what?’ asked Izzy.

  ‘I need space. Take tonight, Heath’s waiting for me at home. If I wanted to paint right now, I couldn’t. And if I move everything over to Kurrabar with Heath … I don’t trust myself to keep going … I’ll just become a farmer’s wife, then there’ll be kids, and the whole catastrophe. Does that make sense?’

  ‘Nope. What sort of faith in yourself is that? Isn’t all that up to you?’

  ‘I suppose so …’

  ‘And anyway, Heath wants all of you,’ said Izzy. ‘When does he ever not support you? You don’t give him enough credit sometimes. You’re the one with the problem here, not Heath.’

  Nina was stunned.

  ‘It’s like you don’t want it to work,’ continued Izzy. ‘You’re so busy assuming it’s got to be one way or the other. To be a painter, a businesswoman, independent – you can’t also be his wife. What’s that about?’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Nina stood to face her.

  ‘I’m saying you’re being an idiot.’ Izzy also stood and drained the last of her drink then continued more kindly. ‘I think you make him worry he’s not good enough or something.’

  The sound of boots echoed down the hallway. Izzy jumped.

  ‘It’s only Lachlan turning in,’ said Nina. A door closed.

  ‘Yes,’ said Izzy. ‘Sorry if I was too blunt.’

  ‘No.’ Nina spoke softly, though she did feel a bit bruised.

 

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