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Riding the Storm

Page 8

by Heather Graves


  One of the lads stepped forward at once and remedied this deficiency. Ryan gave it to him and watched as the horse munched it greedily.

  ‘I’ll be damned.’ Jim Wolfe, the stable foreman had been watching the reunion. ‘That’s the first time I’ve seen him eat anything with enthusiasm since he got here. You’d better take over as his strapper, Mr Lanigan. The sooner the better for everyone, I’d say.’

  ‘Ryan, please. And I’d love to look after Tommy. Just try and stop me.’

  He had been in Melbourne for a full week before he ran into Robert at all and this was not in the house but in the stables. He heard his uncle’s voice raised in criticism and barking orders, even before he caught sight of him in his wheelchair. He paused in the middle of grooming Tommy, wondering whether to stay out of sight or get it over with at once, revealing himself right away.

  ‘Jim! Get Sam or someone to shift that pile of dung at once.’ Robert’s voice wasn’t as strong as before but still had authority. ‘You know I won’t tolerate the stink of shit in the stables—’

  ‘Sorry, Mr Lanigan. Won’t let it happen again.’

  ‘Better not. And why didn’t anyone tell me there was a new boy looking after Tommy? You should have checked with me first.’

  ‘But he’s good with the horse, Mr Lanigan – you know how difficult Tommy was. An’ Mrs Lanigan said it would be OK.’

  ‘Oh, did she? Well, I’ll be the judge of that. Jus’ remember I’m still in charge here – not Mrs Lanigan.’

  ‘Right you are, sir.’

  Robert put on a falsetto, mimicking him. ‘“Three bags full, sir!” Don’t you have a mind of your own, Jim? Or have you been told to humour me?’

  Jim shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

  ‘Come on, then. Show me my horse. How’s he doing? I haven’t seen much of him since he came down from Queensland and that idiot truckie drove into me.’

  Ryan saw no point in trying to avoid his uncle – he would have to meet up with him sooner or later. Quickly, he slipped a leading rein on Tommy, opened the stable door and marched the horse out. To begin with, Robert had eyes only for his horse.

  ‘My word – you’re turning into a beauty, aren’t you? A far cry from the half-starved colt I brought down from the North—’

  ‘That’s a lie.’ Ryan was so angry, he spoke impulsively before he could think better of it. ‘My father gave Tommy the best of everything. He even built a new stable for him.’

  ‘You!’ Robert turned his chair to look up at him, finally recognizing the nephew he hoped to have left behind in North Queensland, never to be seen again. ‘What in the name of Hades are you doing here?’

  ‘Well now, Miss Lanigan – Christine.’ Colin Walker spread his hands on either side of her personnel file that, to her eyes, looked thin and pitifully small. ‘Best not waste time beating about the bush – no point in prolonging the agony. We – that is, the directors and I – have decided to let you go.’

  Chrissie felt suddenly numb and felt as if she were hearing Mr Walker from a long way off, although this news was no more than she was expecting. ‘I see. Because I’m the newest recruit, I suppose?’

  Colin Walker sat back, regarding her. ‘That does come into it, of course. But I’m afraid you haven’t lived up to your promise and our expectations. We are disappointed in you.’

  Chrissie was shocked. ‘Disappointed? But why? This is the first I’ve heard of it. And, apart from time off that was due to me after working through several weekends, I haven’t taken any sick leave or—’

  ‘So clearly, you are a clock-watcher. If you were really committed to your job here, you wouldn’t be counting the extra hours.’

  ‘I didn’t. I don’t. I admit I have been distracted with family problems lately. My father had a serious accident and I—’

  ‘Spare me the details – they are of no interest to us here.’

  Chrissie closed her mouth, shocked by the man’s callousness.

  ‘Also, when you came to us, you never said you were planning a wedding. When we hired you – ahead of many equally promising girls – you never mentioned your intention to marry and take an extended trip overseas—’

  ‘No. It was only to be a holiday – a few weeks. But even that isn’t happening now. My fiancé called it off.’

  ‘So? He found you as unreliable as we do, I suppose?’

  ‘Now that isn’t fair.’ Tears sprang to Chrissie’s eyes and her temper rose at the unjust accusation. ‘I’ve always done more than my share of the work here. I’ve come in early most days. I worked like a dog for you.’

  ‘But I don’t need a dog, Christine, I need a reliable law clerk—’

  ‘And my name isn’t Christine actually – it’s Christalynne.’ She took pleasure in correcting him but she could have saved her breath as Walker ignored it.

  ‘I need a young person dedicated to being here. Someone prepared to grow with the company – to be here for the next ten years or more—’

  ‘That’s insane. No one can promise you that.’

  ‘Clearly, you can’t. Which only goes to show what a mistake we made in hiring you. Clear your desk, Miss Lanigan. You can expect to be paid until the end of the current month.’

  ‘But that’s only a week away. And what about holiday pay? Surely I’ll be entitled to something for that?’

  Walker pulled a face, shaking his head. ‘Not here long enough,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘A reference, then?’ She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, already knowing what the answer would be. Sure enough, Walker shook his head yet again.

  ‘Company policy. We don’t give out references for people who’ve been here for less than twelve months. In any case, I don’t think you’d like what we had to say.’

  ‘Damn you, then.’ Suddenly, Chrissie’s temper got the better of her. ‘You haven’t heard the last of this. Mr Walker. You know of Sir Henry Wheeler, I suppose?’

  ‘Sir Henry? Oh, indeed. A rather colourful character, I’d say.’

  ‘Well, Sir Henry is my mother’s uncle. He’ll be happy to cause a stir over this. I could even take you to tribunal.’

  Colin Walker sat back, smiling thinly through bloodless lips, and somehow she knew this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. It was familiar territory to him and he almost enjoyed it, wanting people to cringe and plead. ‘That would be most unwise, even with the support of your Mr Wheeler. If word gets around that you’re a troublemaker, Miss Lanigan, it may be impossible for you to get hired anywhere. A word here and there. It doesn’t take much.’

  ‘You can’t do this. You can’t stop me from getting employment elsewhere. That just isn’t fair.’

  ‘Life is as it is, Miss Lanigan. Nobody promised it had to be fair.’

  ‘How long?’ Robert had returned from the stables and was confronting his wife in the kitchen. ‘How long has that interloper been living here? Eating at our table. Taking over the care of my best horse.’

  Val regarded the angry man, hands on hips, trying not to feel pleased that she could loom over him as he sat in the wheelchair. ‘Rob, you need to calm down. You’ll have another stroke or something.’

  ‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I expect you wish I’d died in that accident. Much tidier than having a cripple to care for. Well, I’m here to tell you I’m not finished yet.’ Angrily, he smote the arms of his wheelchair. ‘I won’t be in this damned chair forever. Then you and Chrissie had better watch out.’

  Val stared at him. She knew something that Robert did not; his doctors had told her in no uncertain terms that the nerves in his spine had been severed and he’d never walk again. At the same time, they had warned her to keep that news to herself; he shouldn’t be allowed to live without hope of recovery or he might fall into a depression.

  ‘I don’t even know why you were there.’ Val sighed in exasperation. ‘You could have bypassed Sydney altogether. What were you thinking? Driving through the city on unfamiliar roads whe
n you’d already been travelling for hours.’

  ‘If you must know, I was looking for a decent meal. Something other than the usual cholesterol cocktail from a roadside café.’

  ‘And as usual, you’ve strayed from the subject. We were discussing Ryan. Instead of complaining, you should be grateful he’s here. Hunter’s Moon was going into a decline, missing the warmer weather as well as the handlers he’s used to. Ryan has given him a new lease of life. He’ll be ready to race again soon. Perhaps you’ll like to go and see him when he does.’

  ‘And maybe I won’t. You haven’t heard the last of this, Val. That boy doesn’t belong here. He has to go.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Rob! He’s your brother’s child – Joanne’s child. Remember you loved her once?’

  ‘That was a long time ago. You’d have a shock if you’d seen her.’ Robert’s mouth twisted in a sneer. ‘An ageing beauty, half her mind gone as well.’

  ‘All the more reason to offer a safe haven to her son. You won’t even have to see him, if you don’t want to.’

  ‘I don’t care. I don’t want him here.’

  ‘Why? I suppose he reminds you of the shabby way you treated his father. Paying him a pittance for his share of the stables.’

  ‘He was happy enough at the time. He’s the one who wanted to leave.’

  ‘Yes. Because you made life unbearable for him. And now you want to take out your spite on his son. The lad has lost everything – father, mother and home in a matter of weeks. And now you want to part him from the horse that he loves.’

  ‘Sentimental twaddle. It doesn’t pay to get too fond of a horse. It’s only good for as long as it can race and then it’s dog food,’ Robert growled, turning his chair towards the door. ‘I’m going up to my room. See that I’m not disturbed.’

  He steered his wheelchair out into the hall and sped towards the newly installed lift. It had cost a fortune and – in his opinion – made the house look like a cheap hotel, but at least it meant that he could go and come as he pleased on all levels and even out to the stables if he wished. Not that he had been going there much at all lately. But all that must change. It made his stomach twist with jealousy to see Ryan working so contentedly with Hunter’s Moon, cementing a bond with the horse he had worked so hard to reclaim.

  Upstairs in his study, he gave full rein to the temper building inside him and threw his old-fashioned brass desk set at the wall. Fortunately, the ink had long since dried in the wells but it landed on the floor with a satisfying crash. He waited to see if Val had heard and would come to investigate but there was no sound from below or clatter of footsteps on the stairs.

  Women! For the first time in his life his decisions and wishes were being overruled by a whole bunch of them; his wife, his daughter and the females they hired to nurse him. At least he’d had a bit of fun there – intimidating those silly girls.

  But he had made some progress; he didn’t need a nurse any more. And now it was time to take his life back. His power. He was still in his prime, after all, and if he could no longer order the world as he used to do, he might as well give up and die.

  What enraged him more than anything was this latest ploy. Without consulting him, they had brought Ryan, that upstart insolent Queenslander, to live not just in Melbourne but right here in his own home. Then, adding insult to injury, they allowed him to take charge of Hunter’s Moon – the horse he had taken so many risks to possess. Here in his very own stables, right under his nose. It made him angry to the point of feeling sick.

  Then the solution came to him like a bolt from the blue. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He wasn’t helpless or impotent – not at all. There was still something he could do. After all, the plan had worked once – why not again? He had been passive and acquiescent long enough. It was high time he took up the reins and made people sit up and listen; he was no longer prepared to take a back seat and let womenfolk order his life. No, sir!

  Although Val was a doormat these days, he had been fond of her once, especially when he believed she might give him a son. But she was long past her best now and putting on weight. She was all too predictable and he was bored with her. Yes, Robert. No, Robert. Whatever you say, Robert – always trying to please him. When he looked at her now, he felt only mild irritation.

  He smiled, recalling how he’d made her pay for her little adventure, over and over again. He could scarcely believe that Val, who had always seemed so timid and thoroughly under his thumb, had actually found the courage to have an affair. It made him wonder about Chrissie, who had appeared so quickly after their wedding. He saw nothing of himself in the girl – she was all Valerie with that dark hair and big, brown Welsh eyes. And there had never been any love lost between them – she despised him and, in turn, he had always made it plain that he would have preferred a son. He’d spent little time with her when she was small and she’d never been a Daddy’s girl. But of course she had to be his; vanity wouldn’t let him travel too far down any other path. He sighed, thinking it a pity the girl’s marriage had fallen through. She was a bad influence on her mother and he’d been looking forward to having her gone from his life.

  He glanced around his study, thinking he hadn’t spent much time there lately. That must be remedied: he would take charge of his life again, making his presence felt; he’d been an invalid long enough. It was obvious that the room was cleaned regularly and was a lot tidier than he remembered leaving it; his usual pile of papers stacked neatly in the in tray rather than strewn about the desk. His heart lurched as he thought of his private filing cabinet, hoping it hadn’t been tampered with, and was relieved to find it still locked and untouched. The keys looked untouched as well, still lying in a small pile of dust inside a Chinese vase that he had told everyone was so valuable and so rare, it must never be handled.

  Yes, it was high time he made something happen; something that would make them all sit up and realize he was back. So what if he was short-tempered and sometimes had lapses of memory; he could get past all that.

  He unlocked the cabinet and looked for the old diary where he kept his most important numbers – those of minor politicians who owed him a favour, shady bookmakers and that guy – oh, what was his name? Harry – that was it. Just Harry. He’d never been told anything else. The guy had made a brief appearance when the job was done, collected his money in cash and then disappeared like a will-o-the-wisp. And now, if it seemed that the job was only half done, Robert had no one to blame but himself. He’d overlooked Ryan, dismissing him as a child. Unfortunately, at twenty, he seemed very much a man. If Robert had understood this at the outset, the matter could have been dealt with at the time.

  He scrabbled through the diary with mounting anxiety, unable to find the number he sought. He couldn’t go back to his original contact – the man had been arrested recently, suspected of being involved in the death of a bookie. Robert had no intention of being caught up in all that.

  Just as he was about to give up the search, he found it – scribbled on a small piece of paper in tiny writing, tucked into the back of the book. He could only hope the guy hadn’t ditched the number – he’d never be able to find him then. He pressed the keys on his mobile and listened. The landline would have been more secure but there was always the possibility that Val or Chrissie might pick up an extension and listen in.

  The number rang out healthily and Robert smiled. Still connected, then. He let it ring for some time, hoping it wouldn’t go to voicemail but it was answered before that happened. The guy sounded irritated.

  ‘Yes, Robert, what do you want? You were to destroy any record of this number soon as the job was completed. I thought you understood that?’

  ‘Yeah, Harry, but I kept it safe. Nobody knows that I have it.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘But I need your help one more time. Another little job.’

  ‘No! And no again!’

  Robert winced and held the phone away from his ear. The man was shouting now.r />
  ‘I have a strict rule never to do more than one job for a client. Too dangerous for both of us. We shouldn’t even be talking now.’

  ‘But you don’t understand. I had an accident.’

  ‘Spare me your troubles. I don’t have time for them. I’m going off the air now and you’re not to call me again. You’ll regret it if you do.’

  ‘But, Harry.’ He was pleading now. ‘It’s me – Robert. I was hoping you’d treat me as a special case.’

  ‘All my cases are special. And strictly one-off. Safer for everyone.’

  ‘But – you could say this was part of the original job. A loose end.’

  ‘No. I don’t leave loose ends. Your job was cleanly executed and paid for. We have nothing further to say to each other.’ Harry paused before speaking slowly to emphasize his words. ‘And let’s be clear on this – make any attempt to contact me on this number again and I’ll have to kill you.’

  And the call ended abruptly. Robert shivered, suddenly chilled. If most people make such remarks, it can be taken as a joke. But Harry was a professional killer; such a threat had to be taken seriously. Robert threw his mobile down on the desk as if he feared it might bite him.

  ‘What is it, ’Arry?’ The pretty French girl pouted and sat beside him on the sun lounger. ‘You were so ’appy a moment ago an’ now it’s as if the sun ’as gone be’ind a cloud. You are angry?’

  ‘I have a lot to think about, that’s all,’ he said, pulling her into his lap and feeling inside her bikini to caress her sex, not caring who might be watching. Her body was warm, smelling of sun lotion and the sea as she writhed against his fingers, almost purring like a cat. Ondine, as she liked to call herself, was an expensive luxury, as was this resort, and Harry was running out of cash. He had checked his accounts this morning and had been shocked by how much he had spent. The job in North Queensland had gone smoothly enough, with no suggestion of foul play and, with the cyclone following it, diverting everyone’s interest, the case was unlikely to be reopened or investigated again. He had nothing in the pipeline right now and who was likely to link a job in Melbourne with what happened in far North Queensland? Perhaps he had been too hasty in blowing Robert off.

 

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