Rocking Horse Hill

by Cathryn Hein

  ‘Don’t tell me. Women.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Join the club.’

  Digby looked back over his shoulder towards PaperPassion. ‘If you’re after Em, she’s not there.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘The hill. She had most of the day off apparently, then when she was coming back in, Malcolm Fuchs rang to say her donkeys were out on Bradley Road.’

  Josh glanced across the street and then at his watch. It was after five-thirty. Early enough for a drink and Digby looked like he needed one more than Josh.

  He nodded towards the pub. ‘Feel like a beer?’

  Digby scratched the back of his neck and brooded for a moment. ‘Okay. Why not.’

  They crossed back in front of PaperPassion, Josh unable to stop himself looking inside. The woman he’d met when Em had been in Adelaide stood near the bin of rubbers and pencils. She looked up, smiled and resumed her rearranging.

  ‘Just so you know, Em and I split up,’ said Josh when they’d settled in the front bar at a corner table with their beers. The pub was beginning to crowd with Thursday payday workers. Half an hour later and they’d have been unlikely to score a table. Josh nodded to a couple of footy mates but Digby had barely looked around.

  ‘I thought you and her were full on,’ he said.

  Josh took a good slug of beer, enjoying the slide of the alcohol. ‘I said something stupid. Now she thinks I don’t trust her.’

  ‘Shit of a thing, trust.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  For a long moment Digby didn’t say anything. He sat staring at his beer, working his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. When he finally spoke, he kept his eyes down. ‘I think Flick’s been lying to me.’

  Josh put down his beer. ‘What about?’

  Digby shook his head, clearly unhappy about the discussion. A buzz was humming through Josh, the buzz of something being severely wrong.

  ‘Dig?’

  He looked up, his eyes shiny. ‘What happened to Gran. I don’t think it was an accident any more.’ He swallowed and looked away, his mouth twisting. ‘I think Flick deliberately locked her out.’

  ‘Jesus. Are you sure?’

  Digby shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’

  ‘I want to believe her, but. . .’ He lifted his glass and drank heavily.

  Josh wrapped his fingers around Digby’s shoulder and dug them in hard. ‘If what you say is true then your gran could still be in danger.’

  ‘Em sent me an email yesterday. Flick had gone into the shop to talk to her. We’ve been arguing a bit, me and Flick. Mum’s a mess. Gran spends most of her time on the balcony smoking. Samuel isn’t happy with any of us and Em. . .’ He let out a long breath. ‘At first I thought she was on our side, but then she kept questioning me about it, asking to find proof that Flick didn’t do it. Then I caught her talking to Mum and it made me wonder if she was right. Which only made me angry because I felt so shit for being suspicious.’ He trailed off again.

  Josh wasn’t about to let him drift. ‘And?’

  ‘Em wanted me to check the computer. She reckoned Flick could have looked up online what she said she watched that night, but I wouldn’t do it. I thought there was no way Flick would hurt a member of my family. She loved it here.’ His mouth turned down and Josh had a lurching feeling that Digby was going to start crying in the pub. ‘She loved me.’

  ‘You said Em sent an email.’

  Digby took several quick breaths and a sip of beer and when he continued the crack in his voice had gone. ‘She said she had proof about Flick.’

  ‘What proof?’

  ‘In the shop, when Em asked what she watched that night Flick told her it was Montague Manor.’ He stared bleakly into his drink. ‘She’d told me it was The Hannigans.’

  ‘So you checked the computer.’

  ‘This morning, while Flick was in the shower.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Nothing in the search history.’

  Josh looked at him in puzzlement. ‘Em was wrong then?’

  He shook his head. ‘I checked the PVR hard drive. There was a partial recording for The Hannigans that night, like what happens when you pause live sport and the drive automatically keeps recording.’

  ‘So she could have left the stables and gone to the house.’

  Digby nodded.

  Josh took a moment to catch his breath. He stared around the pub. The intensifying hubbub of chatter as the pub reached capacity barely registered against the pound of his thoughts.

  ‘Did you ask her about it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Frustration had Josh wanting to shake him. ‘And?’

  Digby began working his lip again.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Dig.’

  ‘She accused me of not loving her any more.’ His eyes shone with tears. ‘She said I was being poisoned by Em. That she was just like my grandmother, wanting to break us up.’ His voice turned hoarse. ‘Yet, all throughout, not once did she deny it.’

  A wave of cold washed through Josh. ‘Okay, answer me this. Do you think she’d hurt Em?’

  Digby didn’t reply.

  ‘I’m losing my patience here.’

  Digby looked up, his eyes desperate. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Fuck.’ Josh pulled out his phone and dialled. Whatever had happened between them didn’t matter now. He needed to know she was safe. The phone rang five times before switching to the answering machine. He hung up and tried her mobile. He almost slammed his own phone onto the table when it went straight through to voicemail. ‘Call Felicity,’ he ordered Digby, dialling Em’s home number again. ‘Find out where she is.’

  Once again Em’s phone rang out. Maybe she was still fetching Kicki and Cutie, or out with Lod. Perhaps she’d gone to climb the hill and he was panicking over nothing.

  Digby slid his phone from his ear and frowned at it. Then tapped the screen and returned it to his ear. ‘There’s no answer. On either number.’

  ‘You,’ Josh got up, ‘come with me.’

  He didn’t wait to see if Digby followed. He strode out of the pub, breaking into a jog the moment he hit the footpath. His ute was in the council car park further up the street, a few minutes away. Minutes he didn’t want to spare.

  Already the sky was beginning to darken with the final farewell of day. A strong southerly brought clouds scudding across the sky, further blocking the light. Em should have been home.

  ‘Wait,’ yelled Digby, standing beside a silver Jeep. ‘My car’s just here.’

  Digby drove erratically towards Camrick, tyres locking as he braked hard in the driveway, spraying stones that pinged loudly off the stables’ roller-doors. Josh stepped out, waiting close by as Digby swung open the door and leapt up the stairs, calling as he went.

  Twenty seconds later he was out again, looking ashen and frantic. He ran into the main house. Josh tried Em’s number again, his teeth gritting as the call remained unanswered.

  Digby appeared at Camrick’s back door. ‘She’s not there.’

  ‘Could she have gone for a walk?’

  Digby shook his head and ran back towards the stables, and disappeared inside again.

  Adrienne stepped from the house as Digby re-emerged. ‘Digby, darling, what’s the matter?’

  Digby ignored her, speaking instead to Josh. ‘Mum’s car’s gone.’

  Josh tried to stay calm against the wildness infecting his brain. He addressed Adrienne. ‘Is your car meant to be here?’

  ‘Of course.’ Her gaze snapped towards the stables’ first floor. ‘Where’s Felicity?’

  ‘Come on,’ said Josh, yanking open the Jeep’s door. ‘Now, Dig.’

  Digby paused long enough to hold his mother’s shoulders and kiss her cheek, saying something that Josh missed but which he guessed was reassurance. From the way she wrung her hands and kept glancing at the stables, Adrienne seemed far from convinced.

&nbs
p; The drive out to the hill seemed to take forever, even with the speedometer hitting close to one-forty. Josh didn’t care. All he wanted was to get to Em.

  The Jeep’s rear swung out as Digby skidded onto the loose gravel of Bradley Road. He slowed but his speed was still dangerous.

  Not wanting to distract Digby, Josh said nothing. His eyes were on the hill, scanning the skyline, hoping to spot Em’s silhouette in the fast-falling dusk. The Jeep slid onto Stanislaus Road and he checked the side mirror and the road back towards the tourist car park, then whipped back as Digby began to swear.

  ‘Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.’

  Ditched into the gutter opposite Em’s house was a bronze BMW.

  Josh unclipped his seatbelt.

  Digby swung through the gate. Josh was out before the wheels had stopped turning. He shouted Em’s name but the wind caught his voice and flung it aside only to replace it with the rapid barking of a dog.

  He looked at Digby, frozen at the side of the car, until a cry had them both running.

  Twenty-Six

  Em cocked her head and listened, but the howling of the wind blocked everything. She crossed to the kitchen and peered out through the window above the sink but there was nothing but the swaying fruit trees. Though the rain had been sporadic – light showers that dampened the ground and made outside chores tiresome – the sky was still thick with sodden clouds that cloaked the sunset and brought the night in fast.

  She listened for a few seconds longer but discerned nothing out of the ordinary. She thought she’d heard a car door slam but it must have been her imagination, the hankering of a heart that wished for impossible things. If he did come, Josh would park at the side of the house, and the drive remained empty.

  She turned away, spying the half-finished bottle of red wine left over from Josh’s last visit, and poured herself a glass. She should have gone back to the shop after sorting Kicki and Cutie. It was too easy now, in the warm fug of Rocking Horse Hill, to wallow in all the things she’d done wrong.

  Her mobile, its battery dead, sat on the end of the kitchen bench alongside the house phone and answering machine. Sipping wine, she stared at both, aware that no matter how much she willed it, Josh wouldn’t call. Nor would she call him. It was over. Sometimes the baggage was too heavy for a second chance to fly.

  Loneliness engulfed her. She placed her wine down on the sink drainer and pressed her hands into her eyes. The heels of her palms were wet, but she fought against sobbing. Of her closest relationships, only the ones she shared with Granny B and Teagan had survived the winter. The others were all damaged or ruined, perhaps irrevocably.

  Muffy came to sit by her feet. Em looked down and smiled, sniffing as the dog looked at her with sweet brown eyes. She crouched and cuddled her close. ‘What would I do without you, Muff-Muff?’

  The question was barely out when Muffy jerked away from her hands and released a furious torrent of loud barks. Em fell back against the kitchen cupboards as Muffy raced for the sliding door and clawed it with both paws, the barks interspersed with threatening growls.

  Josh. And from Muffy’s reaction, he must be in a temper.

  She shushed her collie and wiped her eyes before rising. Muffy had her nose to the glass, but from what Em could see no one stood on the other side. The dog let out a whine and pawed at the edge of the door, trying to hook it open.

  ‘Shh, Muff,’ she said again. She slid open the door, frowning as Muffy darted out into the night and vanished. ‘Josh?’

  Em stepped out and squinted to the left where the porch extended to the old laundry. Nothing moved in the shadows. Her frown deepening, she moved to the edge of the timber deck and peered into the garden. From the house came the shrill ring of the phone.

  ‘Josh?’ She moved to the porch’s top step. ‘Come on, this isn’t funny.’

  The ringing ceased.

  Em looked back at the house, still frowning. She glanced at the garden again and took two steps back as a prickly heat threaded through her skin. Someone was definitely here and maybe it wasn’t Josh.

  A gust of wind shook the yard alive with noise. Em listened hard as she peered into the shadows, jumping in fright as the house phone started again.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ She walked back towards the door, body half-turned to keep checking behind her. Though she wanted the phone, nervousness made her whistle for Muffy.

  Only the wind-rustled trees answered.

  The prickling of her skin worsened.

  ‘Muffy!’

  Quiet returned as the ringing stopped and the gust faded. Em’s breathing sounded hoarse and heavy. Where the hell was Muffy? Uncertain, she glanced at the kitchen and back towards the garden before taking a hesitant step further out along the porch. ‘Muff-muff?’

  There was movement at the side of the house. Em spun around, her hand flying to her chest. She cried out in a sort of half-laugh as relief washed through her. ‘Felicity, you scared the living daylights out of me.’

  Felicity stepped further into the light. ‘Why?’

  Em’s relief faded as she registered the pain in Felicity’s voice. She cast around for Muffy and found her half a metre to the side, her hackles raised, sidestepping on careful paws as she tracked Felicity’s unsteady walk towards the porch.

  The wind licked Felicity’s hair around her face. Marks like bruises darkened the hollows beneath her eyes. Despite the temperature, she wore only a plain red T-shirt and the same turned-up cuffed jeans and gym shoes that she had on the first time Em met her at Camrick.

  Digby had read the email, and acted. Now Em had to deal with the consequences.

  Guilt made Em hold out her arm in welcome. ‘You must be freezing. Come in.’

  Felicity continued her disturbing zombie walk and plaintive question as though she hadn’t heard. ‘Why?’

  ‘Come inside and we’ll talk.’ Em stepped back to give her room. Felicity took the two steps up to the porch as though her bones ached. Her mouth was horribly turned down, her eyes anguished, but even in her distress she maintained that fragile beauty that had attracted Digby and brought her crashing into their lives.

  ‘All I wanted was what you had.’

  ‘I know. I know you did.’ Em gestured towards the door. ‘Please, come inside.’

  ‘A family. A proper one. With people who love me.’ She lumbered closer to Em. ‘All those things that you take for granted but I’ve never had.’ She tilted her head, eyes streaming with tears. ‘I thought I’d found it, with Digby.’ She sprawled her fingers over her heaving chest, stretching the material of her shirt. ‘He loved me.’

  Em regarded her with pity and hurt. ‘Then why risk it all?’

  ‘She was poisoning everyone against me.’ Felicity’s mouth twisted. ‘You would have done the same.’

  ‘To a vulnerable old lady? No. I don’t go around hurting people.’

  ‘But you do! You took Digby from me. He was my hope. He was going to give me everything!’ She sobbed, the sound heart-wrenching. ‘Now I’m nothing again. Nothing!’

  ‘I’m sorry. So sorry.’ Em reached for Felicity, wanting to hold her, to prove that it would be all right. She could have her family, the love she sought. They’d get her the counselling she needed, make her whole so all this could be put aside. Start again.

  For a brief moment, Felicity allowed the embrace, then a growl escaped her mouth. She pushed with surprising strength, catching Em off guard. Em lost balance, stumbling over Muffy who’d raced to her side. She reached out her left arm to break her fall, but Muffy was beneath her feet. She twisted, hoping to avoid the dog and fell awkwardly. A loud surreal crunch seemed to cloud her head. Then the pain started.

  Somewhere between the groans and Muffy’s barks Em registered the cut of headlights through shadows. She thought she heard Josh. Car doors slammed.

  ‘Flick!’

  Felicity’s chest heaved. ‘Not Dig, please not Dig.’ She looked down at Em, her hands twisting against one another. ‘Th
ey’ll think I did this. They’ll think I wanted to hurt you. They’ll send me back to jail.’

  Em tried to sit up. Pain shot her eyes closed. ‘They won’t.’ She gritted her teeth, panting as she tried to move. ‘It was an accident.’

  ‘No. No. They’ll say it’s my fault.’

  ‘Em!’ This time the voice was definitely Josh’s.

  Felicity whimpered again. And then she ran.

  ‘Felicity, no!’

  Cupping her elbow, Em forced herself to her feet. Ignoring Josh and Digby’s calls and Muffy’s hysterical barks, she stumbled down the garden path after Felicity. Starbursts of pain shot behind her eyes, but she kept going.

  Em burst through the shrubs at the end of the path and searched frantically, finally focusing on the hill paddock. The gate hung open and ahead, up the slope along the fence line, a golden-haired woman was climbing the stile.

  ‘Oh, God.’ Em stumbled onwards, Muffy at her side. ‘Felicity, stop!’ She ran, away from Josh’s and Digby’s stricken yells, ignoring the sickening throb of her shoulder.

  The stile was agony. She had to let go of her elbow to negotiate the climb and the pain was excruciating. Felicity had too great a head start. Already she was across the slope where the old track curved towards the quarry.

  Behind her, Josh’s and Digby’s shouts became louder as they gained ground. Muffy barked as though urging her on and galloped ahead. Em kept going, slipping and stumbling on the slick track, her warning yells swept away by the wind.

  Felicity’s hair acted like a beacon. Em consoled herself that as long as she could still see its moonlit glow Felicity was safe. All Felicity had to do was stay away from the quarry edge.

  Another wind gust brought a terror-filled cry.

  ‘Felicity!’ Em ran harder, sliding onto her side as her feet gave way. One-handed, she crawled back onto the wet grass. Bracken whipped her face and blackberry thorns dug through her clothes, but she barely felt the sting. In front of her the path was intact, just, but further up the hill it had disappeared, cut away by landslip. Felicity stood on an isthmus of unstable land, chest heaving as she stared up the steep slope where her escape route lay.

  ‘Felicity, please,’ panted Em, pushing upright. Taking careful steps, she moved through the tangle of overgrowth and worked her way sideways before tracking towards the trail edge. Moving as close as she dared, she beckoned with her good arm. ‘Come back this way, towards me.’