‘No, not at all,’ Tansy said strenuously. ‘I was only just thinking that it would be lovely, now that things have settled a bit, for you and me to spend some time together. Maybe we could head out tomorrow morning and potter about? I’ve got an appointment in the afternoon with a girl and her mother—I’m designing a Paris-themed bedroom for Isabelle . . .’
One of Enid’s eyebrows arched slightly. She’d never come to terms with the idea of children having bedroom stylists.
‘So maybe you could come up the mountains to Montville with me and we could spend some time wandering the shops, then have a long late lunch, and I could leave you somewhere for an hour or so while I meet with Isabelle?’
Enid was clearly thrilled with the idea but was making an effort not to appear too keen. ‘That sounds good,’ she said, giving Tansy’s shoulder a final squeeze before leaving the room.
Tansy worked for most of the afternoon, preparing enough for both Ernest and her meeting with Isabelle tomorrow that she felt competent and efficient once more. And then finally, at nine o’clock that night, Dougal phoned.
‘How are you? How was your flight?’ she asked, taking the home phone into the bedroom and sitting cross-legged, leaning against the bedhead. She couldn’t wait to blurt out her news, to tell him she’d been an idiot and that it would all be okay.
‘I’m alright,’ he said, sounding weary. ‘It’s only six in the morning here and I was doped up for most of the flight so I’m totally out of it. But I’m here now, and I’ve got the rest of the day to hang out in the hotel and sleep, or take a walk around the city.’
‘I can’t believe you have to turn up at work tomorrow. You need a few days off to get your bearings.’
‘I feel like crap right now, but it could be a different story in twenty-four hours, I suppose.’ His voice was flat. He didn’t sound as though he wanted to talk at all. She was crushingly disappointed but reminded herself that putting her need to talk before Dougal’s needs was what had got them into a mess in the first place. So she held onto her news about her change of heart.
‘I miss you already,’ she said, clutching a pillow to her body.
‘You too.’ And then he yawned, a big bear yawn.
She was also dying to tell him about Maria’s confession, but it clearly wasn’t the right time for any news from her end. It would all have to wait. ‘Well, I’ll let you go and sleep now. But I’m so glad you’re there and safe, and I can’t wait to talk to you again when you’re more with it.’
‘Yes, me too. There’s so much we have to talk about,’ he said, his voice heavy and slow.
‘There certainly is. But we’ve got lots of time.’ The rest of our lives.
‘I love you,’ he said.
‘I love you too.’
25
George had had a great weekend. His old mate Bart had invited him and Hilda over after church; Bart’s wife, Gina, had cooked up a big Sunday roast and the four of them had indulged and shared red wine and laughed and talked and he hadn’t once thought about the cases he was working on. Even when Gina had politely enquired as to how it was going, he’d just said it was going as well as could be expected and Gina had left it there and presented a huge pavlova topped with lashings of cream and strawberries. Then they’d brewed coffee and unearthed the Trivial Pursuit board and had a raucous afternoon ending with George and Hilda snatching the final piece of pie to win.
He’d woken this morning thinking—no, feeling—that life was pretty good. And as if it couldn’t get any better, Hilda had surprised him in the shower wearing nothing but a grin.
He was whistling a tune as he stepped out of the elevator in the big police headquarters in Roma Street. He was humming a ditty as he made his way through the open-plan cubicles on his floor. And he practically sang ‘Hello’ when he reached his office and picked up his ringing phone, kicking the door closed behind him, bursting with energy.
When the receiver reached George’s ear, Blaine Campbell was already in full flow, obviously having forgone any of the introductory pleasantries.
‘What? Hang on, slow down,’ George said.
‘I said check your email straight away. The results on your dead priest came in over the weekend.’
And with that, the line went dead.
George’s heart rate kicked up a notch. What had the results shown? He thought about ringing Campbell back and getting him to tell him so he didn’t have to wait for the computer; but then again, if Campbell was angry that they’d wasted their time he’d rather read it himself first. While his computer was booting up, he went to make a coffee in the kitchenette, exchanged a quick word with another officer over the sugar bowl, and strode back to his office.
He craned forward in his chair and read the report as fast as he could.
And then he smiled.
He leaned back with his hand on his head, amazed. He’d had a hunch, but he’d never expected this. He read the report again. Then smacked his hand on the desk in victory.
Father Peter Cunningham did not die from falling into a well.
Not entirely, anyway.
He pulled out his mobile phone and tapped out a message to Campbell. He couldn’t help himself.
Told you so.
And then he poked out his tongue and blew a raspberry at the phone. Boy, this day was just getting better and better.
26
It was a pleasant country drive to Montville, turning off the road before they got to Maleny and passing Spicers Retreat on the left. Spicers. Maybe that was what her parents needed, Tansy mused. Maybe they just needed to get away and reconnect—spice things up a bit? Not that she wanted to spend too much time thinking about that. She manoeuvred the car into a space on the flat dirt behind the cuckoo clock shop, and they started their browsing there.
Inside, whole walls were covered in imported clocks with intricate designs hand-carved into the dark wood, their small pieces whirring and bobbing, little figurines dancing. The clocks ranged in size and price, some costing several thousands. German wooden toys, classical beer steins and cellophane-wrapped gingerbread filled shelves and nooks.
Enid shook her head sadly. ‘We’ve never even been outside of Australia,’ she said. ‘We never had the money and it never seemed important. But now? I don’t know. It feels like we’ve missed out. It’s too late now.’
‘But why?’ Tansy asked, studying a miniature cuckoo clock that also functioned as a thermometer.
‘We’re not young anymore,’ Enid said, shifting the weight of her vast handbag higher up her shoulder.
‘No, but neither of you has any drastic health issues. If you wanted something more relaxed, you could take a bus tour so you don’t have to worry about much more than setting the alarm in the morning and then turning up for dinner on time. It might be just what the doctor ordered for you and Dad.’
Enid shook her head, dismissing the idea quickly. ‘Come on, there’s lots more to see.’
In the chocolate shop, Tansy bought treats for Maria (if anyone in the world needed chocolate right now it was her) and Belle (Tansy would absolutely finish that care package today). From there, they stopped at a toyshop and Enid bought something for each of Rose’s four kids. Tansy followed suit. She and Rose still hadn’t spoken since the day last week when Rose had called her in the car. She should take Dougal’s advice and invest more time and effort into healing that relationship. If Rose wouldn’t come to her then she’d just have to redouble her own efforts. She’d do the same thing she’d done to Maria and simply turn up on Rose’s doorstep unannounced, carrying a fruitcake, as well as toys for the kids.
They spent ages in a gorgeous, fussy knick-knack shop, flicking through diaries and notebooks, smelling soaps, testing hand creams, trying on scarves and hats, admiring jewellery and shaking out throw rugs. Enid turned up her nose at the esoteric shop with its tarot cards and statues of Kuan Yin, Buddha, fairies and dragons, so they continued to climb the hill, Enid’s breathing becoming laboured, and popped
into a clothing store to have a break and try on clothes, with Enid buying a beach coverall. ‘Just in case I’m here for a while,’ she said.
‘Have you spoken to Dad yet?’
Enid set her jaw. ‘I don’t have anything to say than hasn’t already been said.’
‘Maybe he has.’
‘Then he’d have called, wouldn’t he?’ she said, and turned away to march on to the next store.
In and out of shops they went until their rumbling bellies called them for lunch. They stopped at Wild Rocket, propping themselves up on the verandah and gulping down the bottle of water the waiter brought to the table. Enid ordered bangers and mash and a cappuccino, and Tansy chose a vegetarian pizza and jasmine tea. The courtyard behind them, near the bar, was busy, especially for a Monday. And the traffic up and down the hill was relentless. Two women walked past with three girls between them and Tansy wondered why they weren’t in school. Homeschoolers, perhaps? There were a lot of those on the Sunshine Coast. One girl dragged her feet, looking bored. Another carried an expensive-looking SLR camera around her neck, her eyes scanning the overhanging trees above her head as she walked. The third, probably around eleven, Tansy guessed, blew bubbles through a bubble maker; they rolled out in front of her, shiny baubles ref lecting tiny rainbows as they spun in the light.
The bangers came out on a bed of whipped mash, with gravy and an assortment of green vegetables and carrot sticks.
‘I always loved bangers and mash as a kid,’ Enid said, cutting through the thick sausage. ‘Back then we ate it because it was cheap. Now you can order it as a gourmet meal. Times certainly have changed.’
Tansy thought about her mother eating sausages as a young girl and tried to picture her sitting around the dinner table with her two sisters. Maybe now was a good time to talk to her about Maria. Then again, what would she say? That she’d secretly tracked down her mother’s sister, had been lying about where she’d been going this past week, had roped Leo into the lie, along with Jordan, Katarina and Toby (and Dougal), and oh yes, had discovered that Maria was a murderer?
Sure. That would go down a treat.
The time was coming, of course. She’d have to confess all of that. If nothing else, she couldn’t expect the secret to stay that way for long now that she’d involved Florrie’s family. But today, she decided, she would instead tell her mother about the pregnancy test and what was happening between her and Dougal.
Enid listened, exclaimed, sipped on her coffee with a furrowed brow, asked questions, gasped, and finally fell silent as Tansy reached the end of the story. Then she lined up her knife and fork on her plate to signal to the waiter that she was finished, leaned back in her chair and said, ‘Tansy, has your period actually arrived yet?’
Tansy smiled thinly. ‘Yes, this morning, actually.’
‘Oh.’ Enid’s face fell. ‘I just thought maybe . . . it could all have been made simple, the choice made for you both, if you had been pregnant after all. God’s plan and all that.’
‘Yes.’ Tansy wasn’t sure that would have made things simpler at all, but she could see where her mother was coming from.
‘What are you going to do? How will you work this out?’ Enid sounded worried.
‘Well, we were at a stalemate.’
‘Like your father and me.’ Her mother pursed her lips.
‘Yes, interesting, isn’t it? We’ve both been having to examine our values in life and in our marriage. It’s not easy. It’s not something I’d ever thought I’d have to do. Dougal and I were—are—so compatible, but then everything changed, literally in a single day. The foundations of our relationship, which I thought were so solid, actually began to falter.’
Her mother humphed.
‘Dad told me a little about his reasons for not wanting to go to church,’ Tansy went on. ‘Because of the abuse and the inquiries. How do you feel about that?’
Enid pushed her plate away and sighed, looking uncomfortable both physically and mentally. ‘Honestly?’
‘Yes, please,’ Tansy encouraged.
‘I find the whole thing . . .’ she struggled for a word, then settled on ‘embarrassing’.
‘But you don’t think people are making all this up, do you?’
‘No, no, of course not,’ her mother said hastily, lowering her voice and casting her eyes around as if this was a terribly impolite conversation. ‘But I wish it would all go away. I just wish we could all go back to normal.’
‘Normal? Just believing everything the priest says, you mean?’
Enid shrugged and waved her hands. ‘I just wish it hadn’t happened at all,’ she said, finalising her thoughts.
‘Yes, I can understand that.’
Enid reached over and took Tansy’s hand, clearly wishing to move on from that topic. ‘I’m sorry to hear what’s happening with you and Dougal. You know I want you to have a baby. I’d love nothing more, for me or for you, and for Dougal too. But it’s not simple once you’ve pledged to love someone for the rest of your life. I can’t just tell you to leave him and find someone else. You’ve taken vows. That means something.’
‘It does,’ Tansy said definitively. ‘Thank you. You’ve confirmed what I’ve decided, and that is that I was wrong. I was momentarily swept away with fantasies and dreams, but the reality is that I love Dougal and he loves me and our future is together, just as we’d always intended it to be. Once I tell him that, all will be well and we can get on with our lives.’
‘I suppose,’ Enid said, but she sounded unconvinced. She was silent for a long time, watching the cars lining the street and parents leaning on the school fence, waiting for the bell. Finally, she said, ‘I think this is a test for you and Dougal. I don’t know why, but I have faith you’ll get through it and you’ll come out stronger at the end.’
Tansy smiled. ‘Faith, hey?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘I spoke to Dad the other day and he said something similar. He said he had faith in your marriage and believed it would be okay.’
Enid let go of Tansy’s hand and sat up straighter. ‘Did he? He actually used the word faith?’
‘Yep.’
‘Goodness.’
‘I think there’s hope for you both as well.’
Not long after, the school bell rang and children began to pour from the buildings into the arms of their parents, car doors opened and closed, and four-wheel drives clogged the narrow road.
‘I better get going,’ Tansy said. ‘I can walk to Isabelle’s house from here. Are you right to entertain yourself for an hour?’
‘Of course. We haven’t even touched the other side of the road yet,’ Enid said, signalling the waiter for another coffee. ‘I’ll knock over the shops there just as soon as the school mayhem has passed.’
‘Okay. I’ll text you when I’m done,’ Tansy said, and leaned down to kiss Enid on the cheek.
Tansy’s meeting with Genevieve and Isabelle didn’t go as she’d expected. She’d been looking forward to receiving Isabelle’s collage of the pictures she’d taken and collected in the past two weeks and seeing the ratings out of ten that she’d given the pictures Tansy had emailed through to her. This was when the real fun usually began.
Tansy slowed her pace as she approached the line of spear-shaped trees on the neat lawn, caught off guard by the emotionally charged argument that appeared to be going on between Genevieve and her daughter, who were standing just inside the garage next to the car, Isabelle’s school bag still on her shoulder.
‘Hello?’ Tansy said cautiously, still walking towards them, concerned now.
Her clients stopped talking instantly and turned to face her. Genevieve’s face was red. Isabelle’s eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks tear-stained.
‘Is everything alright?’ Tansy asked.
Isabelle looked back at her mother and then ran into the house, slamming the door to the garage.
Genevieve stepped gingerly towards Tansy. ‘I’m so sorry you had to see that,’ she said,
her face drawn down. She smoothed her hands down her shirt.
‘Don’t be silly. Are you okay? Can I help?’
Genevieve pressed her hands together. ‘I’m afraid we’ve hit a roadblock. Isabelle’s best friend, Skye, has told her that Paris is boring and “so last season”.’
‘I see,’ Tansy said, a tug at the corner of her lips.
‘Apparently, New York is the latest thing and anyone who’s anyone in the schoolyard is doing New York themes. Isabelle is crushed.’
‘Oh, the poor darling.’ Tansy was genuinely hurt for Isabelle. Why couldn’t children just be children? Why was there so much pressure? Why couldn’t someone just want what they wanted without judgement from others? ‘Would you like me to start again, working to that theme?’
‘No, I’m so sorry to say that we’ve wasted your time. Of course I will pay you for everything you’ve done so far,’ Genevieve hastened to add. ‘But right now she’s saying she doesn’t want to do her bedroom anymore. All the fun has been taken out of it thanks to Skye’s silly words. And to think this is only going to get worse as she heads into the teenage years. I just didn’t see this coming at all.’
Tansy had no words of wisdom for Genevieve, nothing that might ease the pain she knew this mother was feeling for her daughter, but she wrapped her in a hug just the same. Genevieve stiffened at first and then hugged her back.
‘Thank you for your kindness,’ she said, when Tansy stepped away. ‘Send me your bill when you’re ready.’
As Tansy walked back down the hill to go and find her mother, she pulled out her phone to call Maria. She felt bad that she hadn’t called her yesterday. Maria probably thought she despised her now after what she’d confessed. Tansy had meant to phone, but she’d felt so out of sorts yesterday and then got distracted with work and simply forgot. And, also, she might have been a bit nervous to call Maria after her aunt’s revelation. How do you carry on a conversation after that?
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