by Cathryn Hein
He finished his beer and stood. It was time for home. And maybe a dream or two about a sexy, creamy-skinned redhead.
Teagan sat on the top verandah step with her phone in her lap and her hands over her face. The phone call with her friend, Jasmine, telling her about Emily had left Teagan shaken and desperate to return home. There’d been an accident, a terrible one, but at least Em was safe. Beyond offering their love, there was nothing she or Jasmine could do. And home wasn’t home anymore. Not now Pinehaven was lost.
She picked up the mobile and dialled Em’s number. As expected it went straight to voicemail. She left a message, passing on her love and apologising for not being there. Em would understand. They’d talked about families long into the night before Teagan had left. About the messiness of them, and the power they had to hurt like nothing else.
Blanche snaked her silvery body around Teagan’s legs, cheek rubbing sensually against her calf. She resisted the urge to edge the cat off the step and shifted aside instead, hoping it’d take the hint. The animal still gave her the shivers. Its resemblance to something from a horror film was quite uncanny. Any moment she expected polyps to start popping along its back and bursting. Last night she’d made sure her bedroom door was firmly shut, yet this morning Teagan had again woken with fish breath in her face. At first she’d thought the cat really was an alien, capable of teletransportation, until a hunt around had revealed the bedroom window was ajar and a corner of the fly screen unsecured.
When Teagan still refused to play, Blanche tossed her a severe look and skulked off to torment Betty and Wilma. Poor guinea pigs. It’s a wonder they had any nerves left with that thing licking its lips at them all day.
Teagan leaned back on her elbows and turned her face to the sky in an attempt to ease the cold sadness from her bones. One thing about this place she appreciated was the sun. Here it was late winter and the weather was simply beautiful. No doubt in the summer, when the days turned muggy and the temperature stretched into the high thirties for days on end, she’d come to hate it, but for now she’d take it for what it was – glorious.
After a minute or two, Teagan sat up again. She scanned the front garden before stretching her gaze further afield. The slack wire of the front fence caught her attention. Her leg began to jig.
The screen door opened. Ness emerged with a tray containing glass latte mugs and the results of a baking session.
‘Daydreaming? That’s a good sign,’ she said as Teagan rose to join her.
‘Not quite.’ Teagan settled into her cane chair and nodded at the tray. ‘They look great.’
On a plate sat four cupcakes decorated with thick cream cheese and lemon icing. Teagan didn’t have a particularly sweet tooth, but her aunt meant well. Dutifully, she picked one up and took a nibble. Like yesterday’s vanilla slice, she found it surprisingly comforting.
‘I hope your mind wasn’t on fencing again.’
Teagan screwed up her nose.
‘Darling, what did I say?’
She waved towards the lawn. ‘At least let me do something with that.’
‘But what would Betty and Wilma eat?’
‘They’re hardly starving.’ This morning the two guinea pigs were chomping their way through half a broccoli head and a couple of kiwi fruit. Every time Teagan looked they were eating.
‘Bunny said they like dandelion. That’s why I’ve let the lawn go.’
Teagan rolled her head to the side to look at Ness.
Lifting her chin, Ness picked up a cupcake and began to pick at the paper case with fingernails the colour of ripe strawberries that perfectly matched her lipstick, loafers and snug-fitting T-shirt. ‘That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.’
‘I need to do something, Ness. If you won’t let me fix the lawn it’ll have to be the fences.’ And sooner rather than later. Only that morning Merlin had managed to bash his way out of his yard. He’d ambushed Teagan as she was patting Claudia good morning. Only a triumph-filled warning bleat had saved her from being pummelled into the timber fence.
At Vanessa’s suggestion he’d been left on the loose and was now patrolling the yard like a woolly Doberman, pausing occasionally to regard the house with predatory eyes. Religious callers had been spotted in The Falls. Merlin might be a complete psycho but he was also a marvellous guard ram.
‘You could go for a swim. It’ll be a little cool, but a few laps will warm you up.’
‘No bathers.’
‘So go nude. I do. Or just wear your underpants. No one will see.’
Given the frequency of visitors to Falls Farm, Teagan wasn’t so sure about that. ‘And for the rest of the day?’
Ness took a slow sip of coffee.
‘I can’t keep sitting around doing nothing. I’ll go mad.’
Ness put down her cup and sighed. ‘There’s a farm and produce store at Wilmington, in the next valley. I’ll take you there Monday and you can book up what you need on my account.’ She threw Teagan a stern look. ‘But you will stop for morning and afternoon tea, and take a proper lunch break. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Perfectly.’
Ness jutted a finger. ‘And no weekends.’
Teagan was saved from answering by a car chugging up the drive.
Ness let out a groan as a pale-blue Falcon drove through the gate and rattled to a stop outside the house fence. She plastered a smile and rose, the high-waisted ecru linen trousers and bright top outlining her womanly figure. Merlin, who was picking young shoots near the shed, lifted his head.
‘Colin,’ she called sweetly, ‘what a nice surprise.’
‘Have you heard?’
Ness barely blinked. ‘Heard what?’
Merlin let out an excited croak and lowered his horns.
‘Oh, just the alarm,’ remarked Teagan as the sheep broke into a gallop.
Colin turned, and with a yelp shot through the gate and banged it shut, retreating up the path backwards as a foiled Merlin skidded to a halt and stood panting on the other side of the fence.
‘Sorry, Col,’ said Ness with faultless sincerity. ‘I should’ve warned you Merlin was out. Anyway, you were saying? What is it I’ve meant to have heard?’
Deciding he was safe, Col swung around and gripped the stair rail. His bald pate was completely aglow, his age spots bright in contrast, giving the unfortunate image of something having pooed all over his head. ‘Expansion!’
‘Oh, is Maggie finally allowing you to attach an annex to your caravan? How wonderful. You’ll be able to hold canasta nights with Kathleen.’
‘No.’ Colin stamped his foot, causing the loose flesh of his leg to ripple in a wash of hairy wrinkles. ‘The centre!’
‘Goodness, are you sure? I thought it was just a fence.’
Colin’s jowls wobbled as he shook his head. ‘No, much worse than that. Much, much worse. Kathleen has seen the development application. New private accommodation, a hydrotherapy suite’ – he uttered the words as though describing a home for lepers – ‘and a complete detoxification centre.’ He glanced around with narrowed eyes and lowered his voice. ‘Druggies.’
‘Really?’ Ness clapped her hands together and placed the edges against her mouth. ‘Goodness.’
Assuming from her tone that she was on his side, Colin nodded. ‘We have to stop him.’
‘But the fence will keep us safe, surely?’
‘They have ways of escaping.’ Colin tapped his nose. ‘Sneaky, those druggies.’
‘Bit like rams,’ murmured Teagan.
‘Yes.’ A twitch ticked at the corner of Vanessa’s mouth but she remained stoic. ‘Yes, I’ve heard that.’
Teagan only just managed to hold in her laughter. Her aunt was incredible. The entire thing was a whole lot of rubbish, but Colin was one of those busybody types that deserved a tease.
‘He never told you?’
Ness lifted her chin and sniffed. ‘Domenic and I never discuss business.’
Teagan coughed on a cake crumb. Admi
ttedly, Friday night was a bit vague, but she had a distinct memory of Dom asking Ness for help with his plans for the Wellness Centre.
‘Are you all right, darling?’
‘Fine,’ Teagan squeaked, her eyes watering. ‘Went down the wrong way.’
Col began to wring his hands. ‘What are we going to do?’
Ness released a long sigh. ‘Domenic is a wealthy man, Colin, who I’m sure has already done his homework and has the council onside. I’m not certain there’s much we can do.’ Her gaze drifted upwards as though calling on a higher power for inspiration. A finger slowly rose to her lips. ‘Unless . . .’
Colin jigged with hope.
Ness paused, then nodded to herself as though decided. Her hand dropped and her shoulders straightened. ‘Talk to Kathleen. She’ll know what to do.’
Bewilderment turned Colin’s face hangdog and his voice whiny. ‘But it was Kathleen who told me to talk to you.’
Ness spread her hands. ‘I’m afraid you need an old head for this, Colin. Someone who understands exactly where one fence can lead.’ She regarded him sternly. ‘In situations like these you need wisdom and prudence. I’m afraid I’m liable to become too hot-headed. And hotheads make mistakes. The village needs people like you, Colin. People with fortitude, who can make a stand, bring others into their learned fold.’
Colin sucked on his false teeth. ‘You’re right.’ He puffed out his chest. ‘Definitely one for wise heads. I’ll get on it right away.’
With a gallant half-bow, he scuttled off.
Ness remained at the top of the verandah stairs like a general having sent her soldier into battle. As soon as the car disappeared down the slope, Merlin in hot pursuit, she bent double and released a roar of laughter.
Teagan could only watch in wonder. ‘You’re amazing, you know that?’
When Ness had finished laughing and collapsed back into her chair, she sat for a long moment with a smile on her face. Then she sobered and sighed. ‘I suppose I should call Dom.’
‘What for? He’ll figure it out soon enough.’
Ness turned to her. ‘A word of advice. If anyone asks, don’t take sides. The Falls isn’t like Levenham. It’s a lot smaller and a lot more intense. Things like this have a way of getting out of hand. And believe me, you don’t want to be caught up in the whirlwind if they do.’
*
Teagan spent the remainder of Sunday with deep purpose. She walked the entire property, notebook in hand, making a shopping list and setting priorities.
She was beginning to alter her opinion of Falls Farm. On first look it seemed a rundown property on a series of unproductive slopes, with poor improvements and half the place left to return to scrub. But closer inspection revealed good alluvial soils and remnants of what must have once been productive pasture.
The creek, although eroded in some parts, was pretty, its water gurgling like a contented baby as it flowed shallowly over the worn rocks below. Teagan had even discovered a bower bird’s nest in the scrub on the opposite side, the bird’s carefully arranged hoard of treasures made even brighter thanks to its collection of sky-blue bottle tops, washed, she guessed, down the waterway from the road. And a sad indictment of how far even the smallest piece of tossed rubbish could spread. Many of the plants appeared native. Cabbage and swamp gums were common, as were acacias, but there were a few plants she didn’t recognise or like the look of, along with a nasty stand of lantana that would need to be dealt with.
The fences were uniformly appalling. Claudia’s was by far the least dilapidated, but that wasn’t saying much. Other than the main gate and the house fence, with their expensive wrought-iron decoration, Ness appeared to have spent nothing on the others. Although she had to concede that her aunt probably couldn’t see the point when the only animals being contained were a laminitis-affected horse and a randy ram.
Satisfied that she had herself organised, Teagan collected a bucket of brushes from the shed and carried it down to Claudia’s paddock. The afternoon was closing, the air cooling with it, but insects still maintained their industrious hum and the scrub’s bellbirds continued their sweet piping. Her thoughts drifted to Astra, her heart squeezing at the pain of their separation. If only Teagan could have brought her along.
The horse was more than a pretty showhorse, she was a friend. Steady and forgiving. Astra had been the one Teagan had sobbed her heart out to this last year, whose nuzzles had helped keep her despair at bay when it had threatened to smother her completely. She hoped the filly wasn’t too distressed or giving Jas too much trouble. In the aftermath of the drama surrounding the Wallace-Jones family, Astra had been temporarily relocated from Rocking Horse Hill, along with Em’s horse, Lod, to Jasmine’s small acreage near Admella Beach.
Teagan grimaced and swept a body brush over Claudia’s thick coat. Astra wasn’t hers now anyway. She was Em’s. Time to forget about her, like she needed to with Pinehaven.
So easy to think. So impossible to do.
‘Not quite in the same league, are you, Claudia?’ But the piebald was a lovely old thing regardless. Gentle-natured and with a constitution tough enough to survive terrible privations and injury.
The sound of an engine had her looking up the hill. Lucas’s ute appeared at the crest and coasted down towards her.
‘G’day,’ he said, emerging from his car with a twinkling smile. His hair was loose today, swept back from his forehead and brushing almost to his shoulders. The necklace was still in place – a sort of Art Nouveau swirl made of hammered steel. She’d been intrigued by it yesterday and itched to ask what the design meant, but guardedness had kept her quiet.
‘Hello.’ She gave Claudia’s rump another sweep of the brush. ‘Come to check on your patient again?’
Lucas folded his arms across the top rail. ‘Something like that.’
Teagan waited for him to comment further but he seemed in no hurry for conversation. She carried on, trying not to feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, but the memory of his ‘too skinny’ comment had risen and she wished she’d worn a baggy work shirt instead of the old soft tee that cupped her hollow belly and hung loose around her collarbone.
Claudia’s tail was a mess of tangles. Teagan swapped the body brush for a comb and settled into sorting it out.
‘You must miss your horse,’ Lucas said finally.
She clenched her teeth, wishing she’d never mentioned Astra to him. The pain was still too acute. Only bringing up her parents would have been worse. ‘I do but she’s not mine anymore.’
‘I bet she still is.’ He patted the left side of his chest. ‘In your heart.’
The truth of the observation resurrected all the agony of her loss. A rough ache settled in her throat. Talk would only expose it. Keeping her head down, she let his words melt unanswered into the afternoon, and concentrated on a particularly tricky knot woven with twigs.
‘I could help you find another one, if you wanted.’
She had to swallow hard before it felt safe to talk. ‘Thanks, but I’ll be okay.’ She let the knot drop. It would have to be cut out. She crouched at the bucket and dug for a knife or scissors, eyes darting to the fence and back, trying to get a feel for what he wanted. Surely Lucas Knight had better things to do than talk to her.
‘Too soon?’
‘Yeah. Plus I don’t know how long I’ll be here for.’
A whuppa-whuppa sound clouded the air. They both looked up, tracking the noise as it came closer. A blood-red helicopter appeared. It flew low over the farm before turning a sharp left and was lost past the tree line of the creek.
‘Do you like cricket?’ Lucas asked suddenly.
‘It’s okay.’ Teagan paused and resumed her hunt for something sharp. ‘My brother, Owen, used to play when he lived at home. Club cricket, not grade. I used to watch him occasionally.’ Her hand closed around the handle of a bot knife, a special tool for scraping bot fly eggs off a horse’s coat. She held it up and ran her thumb over the edge. Too pitted an
d worn. She tossed it back and regarded Lucas again. ‘I prefer football. Much better for a perve.’
‘Not impressed by the thunder of a fast bowler?’
‘Hard to beat a good full forward.’
He frowned and then understood. ‘AFL. I forgot you were from the south. It’s mostly rugby up here.’
‘I take it you’re a fast bowler, then.’
‘Medium pace. The team workhorse.’ He grinned in a way that seemed to ignite the afternoon, straight, pure and loaded with genuine good humour. A bloke who found the world a pretty damn happy place. ‘My job is to grind them down with boredom.’
‘I couldn’t imagine you being boring.’
‘I can be all sorts of things, if I try.’
‘Hmm,’ she answered, undecided if he was flirting. He couldn’t be. Not genuinely. Not with her. Teagan was dirty, smelled like horse and was wearing the ugliest T-shirt imaginable.
She retrieved the comb from the bucket and rose to tug it through Claudia’s knot, accidentally tearing out a couple of long white hairs in the process. The horse shuffled. She shushed her and stroked her rump, the discomfort she’d caused the horse making her feel even more flustered.
Teagan couldn’t help a quick fantasy of Lucas playing sport. He possessed the sort of body that spoke of prowess as well as power. Boring would never be in his repertoire. He certainly didn’t look boring today in those snug-fitting faded jeans. God, the man was built. He had a nice profile, too. Kind of noble, with his hair smoothed back. All the better to regard her with dancing blue eyes that seemed to soak her up.
‘Did you want Claudia? I’m just mucking about here.’
‘Actually, it’s you I’m after.’
Teagan stilled, blinking. ‘Me?’
Lucas shot her another of his dazzling grins. ‘Yep. You’re meant to be up at the house. Afternoon drinks.’
At the mention of drinks Teagan winced. Her aunt was proving a formidable mixologist. Last night it had been fruit-and-mint-filled jugs of Pimms, a drink Teagan had never had before but which proved rather addictive. ‘Not margaritas I hope.’