by Jennie Jones
‘Do you have a lot of regard for Winston and Kirby as well as Bella?’
Regard? Such a heavily weighted word, let alone question. ‘I have a lot of love for them, and for all the dogs and the animals that find their way to me. Just like I have love for people.’ For you, darling girl. So much love for you it hurts and I want to grab you in the biggest bear hug. A bear hug of love that Frances had obviously never felt. ‘I want you to feel welcome here. I want you to feel comfortable with me.’ And safe.
‘I kind of do. In some ways.’
Thankfulness almost choked her. ‘Are there any ways I can make it better?’
Franca shrugged—Frances! Oh, God, she couldn’t remember if she’d said Franca out loud in the last few minutes of utterly astounding female to female, woman to young woman conversation.
‘I’d like to help with the dogs sometimes,’ Frances said.
‘It’s a given.’
‘And I’d like it if perhaps Officer Donna had something to do with the phys ed thing for the SIDE schooling thing.’
Donna? ‘Yes, I’m sure that’s possible. Donna does a lot for the other teenagers out here. She takes running classes once a week.’
‘I’m good at sports,’ Frances said fast, looking directly into Jax’s eyes.
‘I know. Wendy the social worker told me.’ But not Linda. Linda hadn’t told Jax anything in that one telephone conversation they’d had.
‘Do you need the dish washcloth folded into an absolute square after I’ve used it?’
‘No.’ Jax pushed the chill that overcame her to one side. ‘I work with animals; there’s always a mess to clean up and nothing’s ever neat and precisely tidy. The café needs a firm hand cleanliness-wise or I’d have the Health and Safety Board on my back. But in the house, I just like to chill a bit. I like things tidy, but not orderly. It is our home, after all. We’re allowed to get comfortable in it.’
‘I could straighten things up. Like vases and photo frames. I like things tidy too.’
‘Then that’s one of your jobs. Thank you.’ She couldn’t have held the next words back for all the tea in China. ‘I love you, Frances, and I know that’s not what you want to hear yet, but I need to say it.’
Frances shrugged it off. ‘I don’t mind hearing it; I’m just not used to it.’
‘I understand.’
‘Can I go look at the dogs now?’
Jax glanced at the window. It was still light. ‘Okay. But stay at the fence line in front of the house where I can see you through the window.’ She smiled. ‘Dinner won’t be for another hour or so, and tonight, I’m washing up.’ What the hell had Linda put this girl through?
Frances turned and made it to the door before hesitating. She looked over her shoulder. ‘I don’t know what to call you.’
‘Jax will do.’ Mum would be amazing but out of the realm of possibility for a long time. Jax would definitely do for now.
Frances didn’t accept or decline the invitation. She walked out of the room.
Jax hauled in the biggest, most relieved and yet totally vulnerable breath she’d ever hauled in her life.
It’s going to work. You’re doing okay. Franca is going to be okay. Frances!
As Jack parked the borrowed four-wheel drive at the back of the police station, his mobile rang.
He got out of the cab at the same time as answering Jax’s call. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Jack, she spoke to me. We talked a bit about everything, without really saying much, but I think we’re going to be friends.’
He smiled, slammed the driver’s door, beeped the car locked and made his way to the rear door of the station. ‘That’s great.’ He didn’t know what to be more overjoyed at: the fact that Frances had reached out or that Jax had called to tell him.
‘I cried a bit, which I shouldn’t have done.’
‘Why not?’
‘Thank you, Jack. I think if you hadn’t befriended her this wouldn’t have happened.’
‘Nonsense. It was always going to happen. You’re a good person, a great mother.’ If only he’d had the same. But that was life. He wasn’t about to whinge. He’d done well for himself. ‘So what happened?’
‘She told me you’d had a chat with her, about her dad.’
Jack halted, realising he hadn’t spoken to her about this. ‘It frightened her, seeing that fight. She told me her dad had punched her.’ He ignored Jax’s intake of breath and carried on. He wanted her to know what he’d said to Frances, and that he wasn’t interfering or going behind her back, but that he’d only done it to help Frances, and maybe by doing that, help Jax too. ‘I asked her if she wanted to see her dad and she said she didn’t know. Then I told her a little about my youth. I wanted her to know it was possible to mend, to heal, and even be happy. I told her she could trust you.’
‘How do you thank someone for this?’ she asked.
He heard the emotion in her voice. ‘Well, you could marry them.’ He said it with a smile. What the hell had happened to Jack Maxwell in the last seven days? He’d come here ostensibly undercover, but in reality, to find this woman again, to apologise to her and to explain, and to figure out his real feelings for her and whether they were lifelong feelings.
The case he was on hadn’t gone far, with all its new entanglements, but he’d got his love for this woman sussed in under a week.
‘Solomon will be out there soon,’ he told her. ‘You’re both safe. Has Rosie gone home?’
‘She left an hour ago. Frances is on the front lawn with our dogs. We’re going to have all three inside tonight.’
‘Don’t let them take my sofa.’
‘Is there really a need for Solomon to watch out for us?’
‘It’s all to do with your safety,’ he said. ‘For those times I’m not with you.’
‘Which will be most of the time.’
He chuckled, his heart getting all fondly mussed up the way he wanted to muss up her pretty, shiny hair. So shiny he knew it would be soft as he ran his fingers through it, catching a handful and tilting her head a moment before he kissed her. ‘For Christ’s sake, marry me and put me out of my misery.’
He was delighted when she laughed. He’d made her smile, just as Frances had.
‘We haven’t even kissed yet,’ she told him. ‘I mean, not since you came here—’
‘Why don’t we fix that problem?’
He waited out the pause. They’d kissed before they entered the hotel restaurant. Only a little kiss but it had happened naturally and if he could go back in time, he’d make that kiss a deeper one.
‘You’ve made me happy, Jack. With Frances. Thank you.’
She wasn’t going to budge. Not yet. But he was getting there.
‘I’ll be over in a couple of hours,’ he told her, ‘after I’ve spoken to Roper.’
‘Thank you, Jack.’
He had to admit it sent sweetness around his chest to hear that he’d done something good for her.
She cut the call, and he let himself into the rear door of the station, securing it behind him and heading for the front office. They were mid evening shift change. Johnson and Edwards, the two who were leaving soon, were in the armoury, logging out their kit.
‘All good?’ he asked Donna as he paused in the doorway to the communal office.
‘A couple of DUIs and a busted tail-light,’ she told him as she pulled a hooded sweatshirt over her civvy clothes. ‘But the highlight was a fight in the bar at Breakers. Lizard Claws and Bob Tail workers got into a discussion with another lot of mine workers who’d blown in for a beer or five, and it didn’t go as they planned.’
‘All sorted,’ Louie said. ‘Two guys calming down in lockup.’
Jack nodded. They’d keep them a couple of hours then turf them out.
‘Where’s Davidson?’ he asked Donna.
‘Already gone home. I’m about to do the same.’
‘Good shift, people. Thank you.’
His mobile rang again
. Solomon.
He turned from the communal office doorway. ‘Problem?’ he asked.
‘I’ve got a horse with colic. Can’t leave it until my vet arrives. You’ll have to do the first watch at Jax’s place.’
‘How come you can get a vet up here and we can’t?’
‘Just one of those things. Don’t ask me who it is because I’m not saying. I’ll be on shift around midnight.’
‘Leave it,’ Jack told him. ‘I’ll go over early and stay.’
‘Yeah, but you’ll be inside with Jax. I’ll be there. Midnight or just after.’
He pocketed his phone and walked into the front office.
‘I hope you’re not pulling overtime because we can’t pay for it,’ he said to Jimmy after glancing at the wall clock. It was gone five; Jimmy finished at four.
Jimmy had a plastic bucket and a brush and pan in his hands. ‘No sooner do we get rid of the bull and its buckets of poop, we get a couple of goats.’
Jack ignored the disparaging tone. ‘You were never asked to clean up the poop, Jimmy. Solomon did that.’
‘It still stank.’
‘I’ll make up for it.’ He nodded at the bucket. ‘Have you volunteered for the goat shit?’
‘Somebody’s got to do it and it’s got to be somebody who knows how the station runs.’
Jack suspected Jimmy was loving the animal goings-on. ‘What time is Mr Roper getting here?’
‘Said he didn’t need to come after all. Said he was making a detour.’
‘For what?’
‘Didn’t say.’
‘Get him on the phone.’ He didn’t have time to hang around. He had to get to Jax’s place before nightfall.
‘Mr Roper, Senior Sergeant Jack Maxwell, Mt Maria Police Department.’
‘I know who you are,’ Roper said, ‘and those goats you’ve got don’t belong to me.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because I just found mine.’
‘Where?’
There was a pause. Then Roper spoke, but he must have covered the mouthpiece because it was muffled. Then Jack heard Amelia Arnold’s voice but not what she said.
‘Mr Roper? Where are you?’ Were they inside or outside? Jack couldn’t be sure but the slight echo suggested indoors.
‘Out at the museum. There’s a committee meeting going on. I’ve got my goats; I don’t need to talk to you lot now.’
He’d taken his goats to a meeting? ‘Where did you find them?’
‘On the way out here.’
Well, it was plausible. ‘Mr Roper, do you know anything about the bull that was found in town?’
‘Nothing. Neither do I care. Hang on.’
Again, he covered the mouthpiece, then Mrs Arnold spoke into the phone. ‘Amelia Arnold here, Senior Sergeant Maxwell. How can we help you?’
Jack didn’t know, but since he had her on the phone he may as well ask some questions. She’d been busy each time he’d called her over the last two days and he’d been kind of tied up himself. ‘I understand you tore a strip off the older boys after Jax fired them, and the next day your shed burned down. Do you think there’s a connection, Mrs Arnold?’
There was a pause. ‘I leave policing to the police, Sergeant.’
Jack wondered about that … ‘Do you know anything about how the bull got to town?’
‘I don’t know how it got to Mt Maria.’
That wasn’t exactly a direct answer. ‘Have you spoken to either Mr or Mrs Baxter about the bull?’
‘Why would I do that? Dear Mrs Baxter has enough on her plate with her sons without worrying about bulls.’
‘Do you have any idea who stole Mr Roper’s goats?’
‘Not a clue, Sergeant. Now is this all, because we have a meeting to finish.’
Jack was tempted to drive out to the museum and join that meeting.
A flurry of conversation in the background told him the other two Agatha Girls were there too. Then Roper raised his voice, ‘I’m not giving you the reward!’
‘You miserly old coot,’ Mrs Frith said. ‘If it hadn’t been for us you’d never have found your goats!’
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ Mrs Arnold said to Jack on the phone, ‘we have work to do. This museum is reopening in a week’s time and there’s still a lot of discussion to be had about the associated responsibilities and Mr Roper’s ideas are at odds with ours.’
‘Absolutely, Mrs Arnold. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.’
‘That would be acceptable.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, and managed to stop himself from adding, ‘Don’t forget I’m a police officer—one who can smell a rat’.
‘What are they up to?’ Donna asked when he put the phone down.
‘Roper’s found his goats down some track.’
‘Well that’s good. Maybe they weren’t stolen after all.’
‘They’re all out there, at the museum. Roper and the Agatha Girls.’
‘That’s where they always hang out,’ Donna said. ‘The ladies can’t stand Roper and he can’t stand them, but they have to have him on the committee because he created such a fuss when they kicked him off. We’re all glad they hold their meetings out at the museum. It keeps the arguments off High Street.’
‘Well …’ Jack rubbed his hands together, determined to keep the good feeling he’d had after his telephone call with Jax. ‘All goats are safe, buckled pram wheels sorted, the bull’s rehoused and the snake’s slithered off into the bush. It’s a win for the law. I’m going to throw a barbecue.’
‘I don’t eat meat,’ Louie said, wandering into the front office.
‘So don’t come.’ Jack managed a smile.
‘Are we having sausages?’ Jimmy asked.
‘As many as you like.’
‘You’re on, Sarge. When and what time?’
‘Monday. Knock-off time. Sixteen hundred hours.’
Donna pulled a face. ‘Me and Davidson will be out cruising around that time.’
‘I’ll give you both a doggie bag.’
The front door opened and Will walked in, a flapping chicken under each arm.
‘For Christ’s sake, don’t stand there gawping,’ he said. ‘Get me a bloody cardboard box to put these two in.’
Jimmy was off his counter stool in a flash. ‘We can’t put them in the exercise yard with the goats. I’m not going to be responsible for animals not getting along.’
‘What the hell?’ Donna said, laughing.
‘The exercise yard is fine,’ Jack said. ‘Somebody help him. Louie.’ He had a flash of pleasure when Louie puckered his face. ‘While you’re in the yard, clean up the goat shit, would you?’
‘Oh, come on!’ Louie said.
‘Just do it, mate.’
‘Where the hell did you find them?’ Jack asked as Will struggled with the flustered chooks.
‘They were wandering down the middle of the main road about ten clicks north of town. We’ve got more in the cab. Davidson’s trying to catch the lamb but it’s jumping around and frightening the crap out of the rooster.’
‘What rooster?’ Jack asked.
‘I’ll get the lamb!’ Donna rushed outside, an excited grin suffusing her face.
Jack raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Bring back the bull. All is forgiven.’
‘Baaaa,’ said Jimmy.
Eighteen
Frances was lying on her bed, thinking.
It was best to think of all this like a mystery or a puzzle. That way she wouldn’t have to be involved; she could view herself as though she were having an out of body experience.
Dad. Linda. Jack. Jax.
Jack and the real mother were part of the puzzle about where Frances would end up. Her dad and Linda were the mystery. Maybe she’d never know why they behaved the way they did or why they dumped her first chance they got. Maybe the real mother and Jack had mysteries too. Maybe everybody did, which would be helpful, because then Frances wouldn’t feel like such a weirdo.
>
She definitely couldn’t call Jax mother. But could she call her Jax?
She’d had to call Linda Mummy. Even after she turned eleven, it still had to be mummy, not mum. Total embarrassment when she was with her friends, so she ended up not calling her anything.
She didn’t know if she wanted to see her dad or not either. He’d been upset after he’d punched her. Frances had woken up in the house, and the ambulance people were there. So were the police. Linda and her dad were shouting at each other and a policewoman was trying to calm them down.
In those fuzzy, hazy first few minutes after regaining consciousness something inside her told her she didn’t want to be in that house anymore because it wasn’t a home and it never had been. She hadn’t noticed when she’d been a toddler or even when she turned eight. And everyone knew what an important age eight was, because that was when kids started getting some sense of what was going on around them and how they fit in.
Frances had always felt like she was tiptoeing through life from age eight, as though she didn’t belong, although obviously she’d only been a kid so hadn’t been able to make a thorough judgement. But it was also when she’d found out that she wasn’t Linda’s child.
She often had fantasies of being Cinderella. Not that she wanted a prince or anything, because if she was going to be a famous crime writer, or a senior sergeant like Jack, she couldn’t have a prince holding her back. He might not want the same things she did; then they’d argue. She knew she had to be able to fight her own fights. Just not fist fights. Although, if she did want to be a detective, she’d probably have to know how to fight.
She wrinkled her nose.
Jack was coming over for dinner. Would he like the chocolate pudding she’d made? It was her speciality although Linda never ate any. Too fattening. Frances loved it, especially with runny fresh cream. Would Jack like it?
She decided she wouldn’t ask, just wait and see if he mentioned it.
Her thoughts returned to what was she going to do about calling the mother Jax. She could test it out quietly and say her name while not looking at her. If the mother said anything, like Oh, darling, I love that you’ve called me by my name, then she wouldn’t do it again. She wasn’t used to hearing all the love words and wasn’t sure if they’d make her cry, the way—Jax—had nearly cried just now.