by April Worth
“They’re playing happy family without me. Annabelle adores that bitch. I can’t believe it.”
The Officer beside him nodded. “Annabelle’s just a little girl. She’ll make friends with anyone Owen. Don’t take it personal.”
“How can I not!? Joanne’s even letting her baby sit. I may as well just sign the damn papers. I’ve lost them.”
“She lets her baby sit? Leaves her alone with her?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t even need me. She’s my kid, Jo should have come to me first..”
Roy smirked, thinking. “Jo’s protective right?”
Owen grimaced. “Like a fucking bear.” He remembered their fights, the catalyst of her leaving him. Since then she’d been wary of anything he did, allowing only short visits with their child. Only because he was fiercely adamant he’d never harm her.
Roy sipped his beer. He liked Joanne, but he and Owen went way back. Before the academy, before the couple even met. He remembered being at the event where the spark had lit. Joanne had played coy, but Owen had been persistent. Eventually she’d fallen for his charms, agreed to dinner.
The rest was history.
The bottle sat back down on the table with a soft clink.
“Tell Joanne Annabelle told you something, said something to you. Make her doubt. The rest will work itself out..You’ll see.”
Chapter 35
Jo smiled as she blew up another brightly coloured balloon, tying it with pink ribbon to the others waiting on the counter. Her daughter’s second birthday, a party planned at her mother’s home.
Streamers and little bags of candy and toys had been made up, by lunchtime the little guests would arrive. Kerry and her son Ben, other kids from day care and the neighbourhood. A forest of three foot terrors. Her mother had put on a strong pot of tea.
Gifts were already wrapped, Jo decided to take a break, pulling down a china cup from the set in the cupboard.
Her mother Pamela joined her in the kitchen, the older woman in her early fifties. A caramel coloured blouse over cream slacks, painted toenails and blonde bobbed hair tied in a loose bun. An older vision of Joanne, sea green eyes instead of grey, a casual grace from a cultured, wealthy upbringing. Always meticulous in her appearance, a trait that her daughter had adopted early on.
“Pour one for me please Joanne.” Her mother smiled as she looked over their preparations so far.
Her daughter tilted the teapot, pouring a mild aromatic liquid into two cups, she handed one to her mother, who took it with a demure tilt of her head. Tall mother and daughter smiled at each other.
“I wish your father could have met his grand daughter, he would have spoilt her rotten.” The older woman mused, sipping her tea.
Jo smiled sadly, her memories seeping through. “Yes. A regular Bonnie and Clyde. She gets away with enough as it is.” The thought made her chuckle, her father’s gentle jovial manner was far removed from her mother’s primness. Sometimes she wondered if she ever measured up in her eyes.
She had encouraged Joanne from her teen years to find a wealthy provider, and latch on like a steel trap. Had been baffled when Joanne went into police work. Her daughter had just shaken her head, more concerned about love, and freedom, for all the good it did her with the way things worked out.
The policewoman checked her watch. Another fifteen minutes and Annabelle’s father would be arriving with her daughter. Hopefully things would be civilised. They’d agreed to tolerate each other for a couple of hours to celebrate for Annabelle. Her mother hadn’t been fond of the idea. Seeing dark bruises on her daughter once was enough to foster a keen hatred for the man. Since then, he hadn’t done anything to endear her judgement.
Pamela softly cleared her throat as she sipped. “Darling, do you know anything about a John, or a Gene?”
The younger woman felt the blood drain from her face. “..Why?”
Her mother took another sip of her tea, looking around the kitchen. “Your daughter, she’s been telling me about spending time with them, something about horses and cartoons?” The older woman smiled, Annabelle was difficult to understand sometimes, not quite grasping certain phrases. It was forgivable, she had only turned two.
Jo studied her cup. “Jean. She’s a friend. She owns a property up in the ranges, Annabelle and I visit sometimes when I need a break.”
Her mother smiled. Sometimes it was difficult for her daughter to form friendships. It had started in high school, her looks had made her popular, but the cliques were often hollow and false. Jo hadn’t kept up contact. “That’s lovely dear. An associate of yours?”
The daughter grinned to herself, rubbing her own arm in an embarrassed gesture. “Not exactly. Funny story actually. I rear ended her on the freeway.”
Her mother’s green eyes widened, shaking her head. “Your driving was always a subject of concern Joanne.” She teased. “Was the poor woman all right?”
Jo snickered to herself. “Yes, she was fine. My Ford wasn’t though. Three thousand dollar bill, lucky I was insured.” Wincing.
Her mother chided her with an exasperated sigh, looking at her daughter’s pink tinted cheekbones. A loud triple chime of the doorbell, her mother rolled her eyes. “Your husband is here.”
Jo groaned inwardly. She would press him again to finalise the divorce, but that would have to wait. She made her way down the hall, her pale summer dress swishing, cork sandals tapping over the tiles.
Owen was standing there with her daughter tugging at his hand. Weekend attire, a loose t-shirt and jeans over sneakers. He regarded her through his sunglasses. “Jo.”
“Hello.” She held the door open, smiling down at her bouncing daughter who was full of beans and sugary treats. The duo entered, Annabelle running down the hall to greet her grandmother, who stood with crossed arms observing them from the doorway. Her face softened when the little girl ran over for a hug. She looked up, barely acknowledging Owen’s presence.
“Happy birthday darling. Come dear, we have lemonade, would you like a lemonade?” Pamela led the toddler into the kitchen. Jo huffed softly, gesturing for Owen to follow her out into the yard. They crunched over the lawn. She offered him a soda from the ice chest as he sat down. He took it, snapping back the tab with a pressurised hiss before looking around. Her mother’s garden was maintained once a fortnight, the older woman liked to enjoy the blooms but not dirty herself mowing the lawn.
Small talk before parents and guests arrived. “How are things at the station?”
He brushed something off his leg, lifting his sunglasses to rest over his short buzzed hair. “Fine. You?”
She ran her fingertips over a hanging plant on her mother’s gazebo. “Busy.”
He snickered. “I bet.”
She gave him a pointed look. “Don’t start.”
He waved his hand at her. “Yeah yeah. I get it. I’ll be nice.”
Jo sighed, sitting down across from him in a deck chair. He watched her move. “Jo, we need to talk later. I’m serious.”
Not this again. “About?”
“Our kid, and what’s going on.” His handsome jaw set firmly.
She gave him a confused look, they were interrupted by a high feminine voice. “Hello? Jo?”
She smiled, walking over and unlocking the gate. Kerry’s smiling face appeared through the gap. “Hi Jo. Where’s the birthday girl?” Her son Ben stood beside her leg holding a colourful gift.
The blonde woman smiled, Kerry looked past her, waving cautiously at Owen. “She’s inside with Mum. Come on in.”
***
Within the hour the backyard was a frenzy of running children and torn wrapping paper. Annabelle enjoyed being the centre of attention, running around the lawn chased by a noisy pack of playing children. Her mother watched on, leaning against the gazebo with a smile. Jean had texted her wishes for the girl earlier in the day, understanding her presence would make things awkward. Jo had relayed the sentiments to the toddler, who had insisted on talking to the older woman.
She succumbed to the child’s whims, dialling Jean’s number. Hearing her lover ask the child about her day, what presents she had received. Telling her she would have a cake ready next time she saw them. Jo had ended the call with a smile, Jean had been sweet, adding that she missed her. It had only been a week since they’d been together last.
A crunch over the lawn and Kerry stood beside her, offering her a fresh soda, seeing her own was running low.
“Seems to be having fun.” Kerry mused, watching her son Ben playing tag, a cape over his shoulders.
Jo just smiled.
“So how are things with you?” Asked Jo’s friend softly. She looked over at Owen, who was out of earshot. Assembling a toy with a screwdriver, reading instructions spread over the outdoor table.
“I’m good. Great, actually.” The blonde smiled, Kerry gave her a grin full of mischief.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain gardener, would it?” She broached softly, Jo took a deep breath in response. It took her a while to look at her, the grass by her feet seemed engrossing.
She was wincing, brows furrowed. “It might. Listen..please don’t..”
“Say anything?” Kerry finished her sentence as the worried grey eyes implored her. The shorter woman touched her arm. “’Course not.”
Joanne sighed softly in relief. “Thanks.” They were alone together for the most part, the other guests were talking around the table.
“So what’s it like?” Kerry’s voice hushed as they looked on.
The tall blonde shot her a peculiar look and a raised brow.
Kerry smirked. “No, not that. I mean, is it different? Dating her? How long have you been seeing her?”
Jo smirked back, resuming her thoughtful gaze at the ground. Kerry’s gentle tone made her feel a little more comfortable. “One question at a time. It is different, she’s very thoughtful, supportive. How long? Hm. A few months maybe?”
The short brunette nodded. “Well, Jo, just so you know. I like her. She makes you happy, so I’m happy for you.”
The policewoman smiled. A genuine smile. “Thanks. Maybe I will ask her over more often?”
A gruff voice cleared its throat nearby. Owen nodded at Kerry, then touched Joanne’s arm. “Can we talk?” It seemed polite enough.
Her eyes narrowed. “Sure.” She motioned for him to follow. A short trip inside, passing her mother in the kitchen, who gave her son in law a wary glare.
Jo closed the door to the guest room, a light bright space where they usually stayed. A sofa bed for Annabelle neatly folded away, a single bed for her with a floral quilt. She sat down lady like on the foot of the bed. Owen joined her, sitting across on the sofa. He clasped his hands together, releasing a held breath as he stared at the carpet.
Jo looked at him expectantly. He looked at her and his brows furrowed. “Jo..Annabelle told me something yesterday. I don’t think you’re aware of what’s going on.”
She huffed softly, her expression agitated. “What did she say?”
He leant back, crossing his arms. “Well, she doesn’t always make a lot of sense but..I think she was trying to tell me about that woman.”
The blonde felt an eye roll coming on, but she kept it to herself. “We see her sometimes. And?” She was expecting a fight, but instead he was staying deathly calm.
He grimaced. “Are they ever alone together, I mean, do you watch her?”
Her brows drew together. “I’m always there. I had to leave for a while last week, I told you - the bust. Otherwise, I’m there all the time. Why?”
Owen looked visibly uncomfortable. “I think there’s something going on Jo. I think she was trying to tell me that woman touched her.”
She growled under her breath. Impossible. Never. “You..must be confused. They get along like a house on fire. Jean would never do that.”
He looked away, his lip twitched at her words. He restrained himself. “How would you know? Like you said, you weren’t there all the time.”
She rested her hands on her knees, gripping them tightly. “She’s not like that Owen. She loves kids.”
“Probably a good liar. They seem ordinary, until you find gigs of rubbish on their computer. Like I said..maybe she was using you?”
She shook her head. No. Not Jean. She saw no evidence of anything other than affection for her daughter. Jean spoilt her, listened to her, made time and effort in making her feel comfortable. Even taking on responsibilities that weren’t her problem. There was no abuse, he had to be confused. He had to be wrong. He had to be lying. It was a rich accusation coming from him, vivid memories of the bruises made by his anger.
Jo shook her head. “Look. Owen. I’d know if something was going on. But it’s not OK? I trust her, Annabelle must just be...”
He threw his hands up in the air dramatically as he stood, he had expected resistance. “Fine. Don’t believe me. I’ll go get her. She can tell you herself.” He moved abruptly. She was left alone with her thoughts. Jo studied her nails. She didn’t want to believe it. She knew Jean, it had to be another one of his games. The door opened again, her daughter bounded through, clambering up Jo’s long leg. She settled her on her lap, Annabelle waved a streamer in her face, smiling ear to ear.
Jo looked at Owen with a thin look of annoyance, he got his daughter’s attention.
“Annabelle, tell Mummy what you told me?”
The blonde toddler looked at her father, then up at her mother’s grey eyes. He had spent almost an hour telling her what to say. Now it seemed as though she had no idea what he meant.
He growled softly. “Annabelle. Tell her about Jean. Tell her what you told me yesterday. Like we talked about. Tell your mother what she did.” He prompted her with his eyes.
Jo looked down at the little girl in her arms. She flicked one last annoyed look at the girl’s father. Her face softened. “Honey. This is very important. Did Jean do anything to upset you?”
The toddler looked at her father for reassurance, he only nodded at her. Annabelle nodded back, mimicking, sure this was some kind of game.
The policewoman’s brow arched. “What happened?”
The little girl looked up at her again, then down at her brightly painted fingernails. Playing with Jo’s hand. She tipped up her daughter’s chin. “Annabelle?”
Little blue eyes darted to her father, then up at Jo. She went back to playing. Owen sighed in annoyance, offering an explanation. “She’s worried she’ll get in trouble.”
She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. “What exactly did Annabelle say to you?”
He took a deep breath. “That woman’s a pervert. Made her promise to keep it a secret. Which is clearly what she’s doing now.” Gesturing at her with his hand. Jo shook her head “Owen..”
He growled, eyes flashing. “This is important Jo. For fuck’s sake. You can’t just disregard this? Take her word over mine? Annabelle’s my daughter too.”
The policeman stood over them. Jo pushed herself up, sending her daughter away and out of danger. He pointed a finger at her. “Jo. If my kid says something. I take it seriously. If you won’t investigate..then I will. Her name will go into the system..I’ll get forensics in there to confiscate every cd, every computer. Then I’ll ask her myself what the hell is going on!”
They glared at each other. Jo grit her teeth, nails biting as she clenched her fists. “You don’t..”
“Is there a problem?” Pamela’s green eyes were pinned on Owen, her lips pinched in a scowl. His raised voice had drawn her from the kitchen, along with Annabelle running out into the yard. She stood in the doorway, watching the two of them. Jo had retreated here enough times for her to know what was going on.
Owen shook his head, regaining his composure. “Pamela. No. There’s no problem. But for once I think you and I might agree on something?..”
Jo’s eyes widened, she shook her head, pleading. His blue eyes tracked over her dismissively. She’d had her chance for him to be civilised. The old dragon wou
ld give her something to think about.
The older woman crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh? And what would that be Owen? That you need to stay away from Joanne?”
He looked at his ex wife in thinly veiled disgust. “No. Annabelle’s told me something terrible. Jo’s shacked up with a pervert, a fucking woman no less. Annabelle said she touched her. I want this investigated. But Jo doesn’t think it’s a good idea.” He turned to the older woman. “What do you think Pamela? Wouldn’t you want to know your granddaughter was safe?”
A gasp of shock, and a manicured hand raised to cover her mouth. Jo’s mother shot glances between the two. Her daughter’s grey eyes looked flustered and upset. It took her a moment to compose herself, then Pamela’s eyes narrowed. “Owen, I think you should leave. Right now.”
“Not until I get some sort of answer.”
“Owen!..”
Her mother cut in, taking him by the arm. “Leave. Get out of here.” Her cultured voice high and shrill.
He pushed her away, Owen found Joanne’s grip painfully tight around his wrist, her eyes hard. Each word slowly enunciated. “I’ll call you. I’ll..speak to her. But you should go.”
Owen wrenched his arm free. “Fine. I’ll go. But if you don’t say something to your..girlfriend. I will. You know I will, and I'll make sure everyone gets a good look.”
Pamela could see her daughter’s teeth grinding. The policewoman ushered him to the door. “Just go Owen. I’ll call you.”
Her ex husband left brusquely, sliding down his sunglasses as he walked out to his car. It wasn’t until he was half way up the street that he smiled. Things had gone almost perfectly. Jo turned, to find her mother still shaking her head, looking her up and down like she was someone else.
Chapter 36
A lovely autumn afternoon, the trees had all turned golden amongst the vineyards, boughs of red and gold overhanging the white fences. Her drive up to the winding road seemed to stretch on forever. Jo grit her teeth. It was ridiculous. She knew it. The accusation had dwelled unpleasantly in her mind since the conversation with Owen yesterday. Even the awkward tiptoeing and avoidance of her mother hadn’t stopped it weighing heavily upon her thoughts.