by Anne Ashby
Now a link between them and Penelope had been established by her mother’s handwriting, Leath must concentrate on her mother’s history.
Staring down at the photos laying all over the bed, Leath pressed unsteady fingers against her temples. Who could help? Who could she ask? There was nobody.
With suddenness almost flipping her off the bed, a face materialised. Aunt Amy. She should contact her.
Not actually an aunt, Amy had been a close friend of her mother’s. Perhaps Mum had talked to her about Penelope. Perhaps she knew what the connection was. Perhaps she had the pieces to put this puzzle together.
Leaping up, Leath paced around the small room cursing her stupidity for not having thought of Amy earlier. She’d lived in Australia for years, but Leath knew contact between the women had continued until her mother’s death.
With renewed determination, Leath forced wobbly legs to transport her to the kitchen where she texted Robby. A glance at her watch told her he’d be asleep, but he’d be sure to check his phone before going to work in the morning.
She needed Aunt Amy’s phone number from her mother’s address book. Leath clenched her teeth, muttering. Would Robby even know where to look? In her text she described the box where she’d kept her parents’ papers and hoped Robby would find it amidst all the other things under her bed.
Returning to the bedroom, Leath noticed one small snapshot had dropped onto the floor. Listlessly picking it up, Leath’s heart gave one enormous thump before forgetting to work.
Her legs collapsed and she fell across the bed, squashing and dislodging photos. In slow motion she turned over the snapshot clenched in her fingers. Her mother’s words blurred. She blinked until they refocused. Leath with Penny at Greene Valley. The annotated date confirmed Leath’s suspicions. She had been here. Just weeks before her fifth birthday!
She had met Penelope Grace Maguire. She had sat beside Penelope Grace Maguire on the steps of this very house and had this photo taken.
But more importantly, Penelope Grace Maguire had met her and for whatever reason, had never wanted to see Leath again.
Disillusioned tears tracked over Leath’s cheeks as she replaced everything into the desk and jammed closed the doors.
She didn’t want to think about Penelope Grace Maguire any more.
****
It was a tired, groggy Leath who stumbled out of bed next morning. Her night had been filled with weird and unsettling dreams where the bad-tempered Kirk Buchanan featured prominently, along with shadowy lurking figures of Penelope Maguire and her mother.
Copious amounts of coffee hardly improved her mood, especially when the telephone number she received from Robby drew incessant ringing in a home across the Tasman Sea.
Maybe her aunt and uncle were out walking. She knew from a holiday with them years ago they were very early risers. She’d have to keep trying until she got hold of them.
In the meantime, she had more pressing things requiring her attention. The unit decoration needed her concentration.
Leath had poured a midmorning coffee when the unexpected sound of a vehicle turning into the driveway had her dumping the coffee pot onto the unit’s kitchen bench and warily returning to the yard. Who could be calling here?
Grinding her teeth at the sight of a dirty red truck heading straight for her, the morning sun caught the windscreen and made the driver a shadowy figure. Leath planted her hands on her hips and waited. How dare he come back here?
Who the hell does he think he is? Just because he’d saved her last night didn’t mean...Control the anger, a little voice inside her head warned, because who knows what might pop out of my mouth if I don’t.
Be civil, she told herself sternly, civil and direct.
But could she be any more direct? What didn’t he understand about get out of here and never come back?
Stiffening her back as the door swung open, the breath rushed from her lungs as a petite Maori woman emerged. After treating Leath to a bright smile, her head disappeared inside the truck before she re-emerged with a basket in her hand.
“Expecting someone else?” The woman’s lilting voice sounded amused.
Leath couldn’t answer. Her hands fell to her sides. What could she say? The vehicle was the same, so this woman must be connected to Kirk Buchanan.
“I’m Fiona Buchanan.” The woman’s eyes twinkled as she approached. Leath’s gaze fell to the rings on the woman’s hand as she held out the basket full of something delicious-smelling. “I saw your lights last night.” Her hand waving in the direction of the red-roofed buildings up the hill added to Leath’s certainty. This was his wife.
Surprise held her silent. For some reason she hadn’t imagined him married. “I made some muffins before school hoping you’d still be here. We haven’t been very neighbourly, I’m afraid.” Her rolled eyes suggested she didn’t share her husband’s views on the new owners of this property. “I wanted to make amends.”
“That’s okay,” Leath mumbled, stunned by such a friendly approach. “You didn’t need to do this.” She gestured to the basket, then peeked under the cloth and gasped. “I could never eat all these.”
“I wasn’t sure how many people...you had quite a crowd last time you were here. Are you on your own?” Fiona worried her lip for a moment. “Tell you what, if you’re not too busy, how about I come back in my lunch hour and help you eat them? I teach at the local school.”
Leath’s eyes widened, startled into speechlessness in response to Fiona’s wide smile.
She watched Fiona’s eyebrows rise. “Despite what you might think, we’re a very friendly community, if somewhat static. It’ll be nice to have some new blood. Come on, what do you say? Could you take a break at twelve-fifteen?”
Leath felt her head nodding, almost of its own free will.
“Cool. I’ll see you then.” With a huge smile and a wave, Fiona jumped back into the dirty truck and was gone, leaving a stunned Leath gazing after the whirlwind that was Kirk Buchanan’s wife. She swallowed, shaking her head. Somehow they seemed too incongruent to be a couple.
Carrying the basket across to the house, Leath couldn’t resist sampling one of the treats and was blown away by the decadent flavour of what tasted like raspberry and melted white chocolate.
Tempted to grab another, she denied herself and put them into a cupboard, out of sight and away from marauding ants. Checking the fridge, she confirmed she could offer Fiona a light, tasty salad to accompany those delicious muffins.
Returning to the unit with a lighter heart, she knew why she was looking forward to having Fiona’s company for lunch. A local source could fill in some of the blanks about Penelope.
****
Loud tooting and a squeal of brakes heralded Fiona’s arrival. Leath met her on the house verandah with what she hoped was a welcoming smile. “I made us a salad,” she said, noticing a lunch box in Fiona’s hand.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest you needed to make me anything.” Fiona looked embarrassed. “I have to make lunches for the kids, so always make one extra for me.”
So they have children. Leath frowned. Kirk Buchanan a family man? That picture definitely didn’t seem to fit.
“I only have a half hour, so you’re going to have to talk fast.” Fiona settled down at the kitchen table and grinned at Leath’s widened eyes. “Tell me all about yourself. We’re dying to know who you are and about your plans.”
She grimaced as she paused long enough to take a bite of a sandwich from her lunch box. “Well, some of us are anyway. Don’t take any notice of Kirk, he and Mum have this crazy idea...”
Unfortunately Fiona stopped to take another bite of her lunch, and Leath was left to wonder what this crazy idea actually was.
“So where are you from?”
“Ah, from Auckland, the North Shore.”
“You gonna settle up here?”
Leath smiled as she imagined how different life would be. Then reality returned and she shook her
head. “Maybe one day, but until then I have to work. I’m a paediatric nurse, at Starship Children’s Hospital.”
“You’re kidding, my best friend works there. Maybe you know her, Kelly MacKenzie?” Fiona queried.
Leath dropped into a chair, only managing to keep hold of the coffee pot in her hand. She stared at her guest. What were the chances of them having a mutual friend?
“Kelly and I went through training together. We’re good friends.” Leath burst out laughing. “You’re Fiona.” Her voice rose. “Her crazy friend, Fiona, who left Auckland to marry her farmer in the back blocks of Northland.”
Food was forgotten as they laughed at the coincidence and began sharing stories about their mutual friend.
“Oh damn, I have to get back to school.”
Warmed by Fiona’s lack of enthusiasm at leaving, Leath returned her hug before her guest grabbed the half-full lunchbox and rushed out the door.
“I can’t wait to tell Kelly I’ve met you,” Leath called after the departing figure.
“Me, too.” Winding down the window as she started the truck, Fiona yelled out, “You have to come to tea, I’ll be in touch.”
Watching the vehicle until it disappeared from sight, Leath grinned, returned to the kitchen, and tidied up. She’d heard so many stories about Kelly’s teacher friend, she felt she already knew Fiona.
Leath’s initial reserve, which had thawed with Fiona’s bubbling personality, now returned. While it was comforting to think she had a potential friend up here, could friendship grow with the animosity between Kirk and herself so evident?
Accepting Fiona’s invitation for dinner would lead to a very interesting evening.
It wasn’t until she was back in the African unit ready to complete the murals Leath realised she hadn’t even mentioned Penelope’s name to Fiona. Swearing under her breath for missing the opportunity, Leath cranked up the volume on the radio. She’d ask Fiona next time they met.
Singing along with the music she dipped her brush into the paint. A concentrated effort was needed to finish this before the light failed.
****
Kirk reluctantly lifted his gaze from his computer screen as his mother edged toward his desk.
“Do you think it’s worth approaching that woman again?”
Kirk almost squirmed. He hated seeing such a hopeful look on her face. Hated knowing there was nothing he could do to stop Leath Robson from turning their lives into a circus with those bloody motels.
With a heavy sigh he pushed back his chair and rose, slipping an arm around the drooped shoulders. “I don’t think so, Mum,” he spoke gently. “She seems pretty intent on getting those motels up and running again.”
Her hands shook before she clasped them together at her waist. “There’ll be strangers down there all the time.” Her voice rose. “He won’t understand.”
Her wringing hands were tightening around his heart. But what could he do? Nothing! There was absolutely nothing he could do to relieve the apprehension his mother lived with every day.
“Kirk!” He winced as his mother’s fingers clutched at his shirt, her nails digging into his chest. “If Dad wandered down there and found strangers...”
Kirk didn’t need reminding. What his father’s reaction would be to finding ever-changing strangers living in what he believed was his home was a huge concern. Terry Buchanan was a big, strong man who’d worked his whole life on the land.
Although mild-mannered, his response now to what he would surely see as an invasion of his property scared Kirk more than he intended to let on.
“Please try again, Kirk. If you really tried you could talk her into selling, I’m sure.” His mother smiled. “You always could sweet-talk the girls. Please.”
Kirk closed his eyes, but he couldn’t shut out his mother’s entreaty. Against his will, he offered to go straight down and talk to Leath Robson again.
Outside, away from his mother’s hearing he cursed. Cursed that Cade’s wife Fiona had had to borrow Dad’s old farm truck. Cursed as he edged his almost brand new car over the mud-filled potholes in the driveway. Cursed having to leave his computer and the delicate negotiations he was developing for a rival company takeover. But mostly, his muttered curses were because this was an exercise in futility.
But he couldn’t ignore his mother’s plea one more offer might be successful. Perhaps they were holding out for as much as they could get. Even as his mother’s suggestion rolled around inside his head, he knew different. Leath Robson and her damned motels were here for the long haul.
Unless he could think of some way to shift her.
****
The mechanical purr hardly registered with Leath until she realised the vehicle hadn’t continued around the corner and down the road. Instead the noise crept up her driveway and came to a halt beside the house.
Poking yet another fine paintbrush into the knot she’d made in her hair, Leath glanced through the door of the unit and pursed her lips.
What was he doing here?
Approaching the front door, he must have sensed her presence. He swung around and had the audacity to smile as he strode toward her.
About to demand a reason for his presence, Leath remembered her lunchtime visitor and how friendly she’d been. There was a chance Leath had misjudged Fiona’s husband...
His smile might have grown as he stopped in front of her, but she didn’t detect any similar lightness in his blue eyes. In fact, they reminded her of chipped ice. Not feeling compelled to greet him, her own eyes narrowed as she waited for him to speak.
Surprised when he held out his hands in what appeared to be a very conciliatory manner, she noticed he didn’t wear a wedding ring. Quite a few manual workers didn’t, but if she ever married, she’d want her husband to wear one. Obviously Fiona didn’t feel the same.
“We seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot. I need to apologise for giving you a very bad impression.”
Fiona must have sent him. From her dealings with him up until now, this apology seemed too out-of-character to be of his own free will.
Leath shifted uneasily as he stepped a little closer. His voice was strong and smooth, maybe a little too smooth, she found herself thinking.
“I can explain.” His voice lowered, and somehow his words hung in the air for a moment, as he appeared to be searching for a way to continue.
He flashed a megawatt smile and looked into her eyes just a little too long. “My father grew up here.” He nodded at the house before waving his hand around, encompassing their land. “This used to be part of the home farm.”
Again the killer smile flashed and Leath sucked in a deep breath as her faint alarm increased.
“That’s why I was keen to buy it back when Penny passed away.”
Leath wasn’t swayed by his intense look. He might appear open and affable, but warning bells were clanging inside her head. Don’t trust this man.
“After Granddad died and Dad took over the farm, he struggled for a few years before subdividing this section off and selling it. It gave him enough working capital to get back on top, but he’s always regretted it.”
Leath didn’t answer, not knowing what he expected her to say. If his visit was a sincere attempt to apologise she might understand his father’s regrets, but it had been the older man’s decision and what was done was done. Kirk Buchanan wasn’t stupid enough to think she’d feel so broken up she’d return their land to them.
His sharp, assessing look seemed to acknowledge her thoughts and he looked around. “You’ve done a lot of work to the old place. It’s been a long time since anyone’s cared.” His little dig joined the apparently appreciative words before his tone returned to being unbelievably suave.
The lazy appraisal of her body and another smarmy smile had her clenching her fists.
My God! He’s flirting with me. She took a backwards step before realising he might see it as a weakness, but she was disgusted by what was happening. The bastard. Poor Fiona.
“Are you intending to get all these units up and running again?”
Hadn’t he figured that out while he was spying on them?
“That’s a major commitment. You’ll need to invest a lot of capital with no certainty of getting any return.”
His haughty shrug, implying he knew something she didn’t, incensed her further. But before she could voice an appropriate reply he’d moved.
“Do you mind if I have a look?”
Other than get run over by his bulk she had no choice but to stand aside.
Following him inside, she watched for his reaction. Aside from Robby and Cassie commenting on the drawings in her sketchpad, no-one had seen her design.
Kirk’s mouth dropping open before he could control it satisfied Leath. She’d silenced him. Good.
He’d taken control of this meeting in the first couple of seconds and she hadn’t even been able to speak. But now she could take advantage of his surprise to slip in a couple of her own little digs.
“What do you think?” Her tone implied she wasn’t even mildly interested in his response.
His look into the new bathroom sucked more colour from his face. Now he must accept their determination as he took in the sparkle of the brand new fittings.
She wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t felt a glow of pride as his gaze traced the mural painted around the room. The size of the room had made it difficult to do, but the result was exactly what she’d hoped for. Once she added a few live pot plants along the edge of the bath, their clients might imagine they were sitting in a lake next to the imposing waterfall she’d painted along one wall.
Watching Kirk closely, she decided she preferred him speechless and couldn’t quite hide her smile as he swung around.
“You did this?”
Duh. Obvious, wasn’t it?
“We’ve started small.” She led him into the unit proper and watched his reaction to the painted jungle scenes here. She wasn’t disappointed. Much as he probably wanted to hate the effort, she glimpsed true appreciation before he smothered it.
“It’ll look better once the furniture arrives.” Leath knew she sounded blasé.