As Chris rolled down his window to allow the bushland scents in, he remembered the years when this drive was his favourite after a long, hot, tiring shift away. Tina would open the door, stand on the top step outside and smile and wave.
He looked ahead to the door, willing it to open, for Tina to come out, just like she once had. When she did, his shoulders relaxed and the eternal tightness across his chest eased. But she didn’t smile, and she didn’t wave.
Isabelle’s face filled his mind, followed by thoughts of their baby, and he reminded himself that he no longer needed to see a smile or a wave from his ex-wife. Nor should he expect it. He had everything he wanted back at his house.
Though, living with Isabelle, in her house, still didn’t feel like his home. Not while all of her furniture filled the rooms. Not while Juliette still came and went.
Chris had some room set aside for him in the cupboard-sized shed in the backyard, a couple of drawers in the bedroom and some hanging space for all his work uniforms in the spare room, but that was it. When the baby came, he hoped his bones and heart would settle into that home and family like it were his own.
In the passenger seat beside him were a couple of boxes. He’d stopped in at the local electronics store on his way and picked up two cameras that could be connected to an app on Tina’s phone. She would be able to access real-time footage of the house whether she was home or not.
He contemplated what was going on with Tina. Unusual in a town this size. Almost unheard of for there to be any kind of crime. But after the last mining downturn, a decent number of residents found themselves in some financial difficulty. And like many regional towns, there was a lot of drugs getting around. Maybe a combination of those two found their way out there.
Ex-wife or not, though, he wasn’t going to leave Tina in any kind of danger. Not if he could do something as simple as install cameras. He had told Isabelle he was going to a hardware shop to look for some new tools for work. All he had to do was mention hardware and her eyes glazed over.
Chris parked and lumbered up the short staircase.
Tina smiled. “Thanks for coming.”
He held up the boxes. “Two cameras enough?”
“I would hope so. Maybe we can put one out here and another inside facing the hallway.”
“Don’t want them at the front and back doors?”
She shook her head. “I need to see what’s going on inside.”
“No other indication anyone has broken in since the locks were changed?”
“No. Thankfully.”
He glanced towards the shed. “Do I still have a toolset in there?”
“Should do.”
His attention wandered around the rest of the yard. “You mowed?”
She nodded.
He studied the overgrown gardens, the bare fruit trees, but didn’t say anything about those.
Tina ran back inside for the key, then led Chris to the shed, unbolted the padlock and opened the roller door. She held the camera boxes for him as he searched for his toolset.
“No sign of anyone getting in here?” he asked.
“No signs anywhere. Except for the notes.”
When they headed into the house, Tina poured them both a cup of coffee, leaving one on the kitchen table. Chris came in and out, lifting the mug to his lips to drink the hot brew while he installed the brackets and attached the cameras.
Finishing the last of his coffee, he eyed the neat kitchen with homesickness, remembering when he had once been so comfortable within that space. Knew where all the appliances were kept. Had shoved his head under the sink to fix a leaky tap once or twice. Would head to the fridge with the sense that he had every right to do so. Not like at Isabelle’s where he still felt intrusive each time he opened the fridge door.
The kitchen was completely spotless, not a fleck of dust, which was standard for Tina. He glanced on top of the fridge; it amazed him how she managed to keep that surface clean when she wasn’t even able to see up that high. A box of prescription tablets had been placed there. He shouldn’t question it, shouldn’t intrude on her personal life anymore, but he couldn’t help himself.
“You feeling okay?” he asked as he was packing up and she was clearing away the wrapping and white powdery residue from where he’d drilled into the plaster.
She hesitated before answering, not wanting to appear needy or like she was playing her victim card, but in the end, she went with truthful. “I’m not great. I think the stress has been getting to me. I’ve been feeling a little sick this past week. Headaches. Dizziness. Nausea. I’ll have test results back early next week to see if I’ve been contaminated by something. Some people on a forum mentioned that heavy-metal poisoning can cause all sorts of paranoia.”
He frowned, deep lines forming between his brows. “Where would you have been contaminated by heavy metals?”
She shrugged. “Maybe the paint or plumbing. Perhaps the water tank.”
“Not possible. The piping is copper. And the tank is galvanised steel. Plus, the inside has been lined with a special membrane to stop that kind of thing from happening. The paint isn’t lead either. Maybe it once was, but someone had renovated well before we bought the place.”
An impatient sigh. “I don’t know then. I’m trying to check every possibility off the list at the moment.”
“It couldn’t be some boyfriend, could it?” he asked, focusing on his feet instead of her eyes.
She restrained a smile for how difficult a question that was for him. A reasonable question. In three years, she should have moved on. Chris certainly had. But for Tina, she hadn’t even gone on a date. Hadn’t even thought about it. She wasn’t physically or emotionally ready for a new relationship. “No.”
“Right, well, hopefully, we get some answers on these cameras. Or better yet, it all goes away, and you have no more trouble.”
“I like the latter option.”
“You don’t need me to come back tomorrow for anything else? No leaky taps? Leaves in the gutters?”
“I think everything is up-to-date.”
He tilted his head towards the door. “I better get going then.”
“Sure. Thanks again for your help. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’m a phone call away. Until next Sunday, anyway, then I’m back at the mine.”
She opened the door for him and followed him outside.
His blue gaze met hers. A soft smile. “See ya later.”
“Bye, Chris. Thanks again.”
Tina remained on the top step until the rumble of Chris’s ute’s engine was but a hum in the far distance.
* * *
A wave of dizziness had overcome Tina, so she had spent the last hours of her weekend on the couch streaming movies. When she could no longer hold her tired eyes open, she showered, dressed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed.
She dreaded going to work tomorrow. Delivering heavy parcels in Central Queensland heat while feeling unwell was akin to torture. Needing to distract her mind for a half hour or so before sleep, Tina reached for a book that was sitting on her bedside table. She jerked her hand back and screamed when she noticed the sticky note attached to it. Scrambling to her knees, she crawled across the bed to the other side, climbed off, ran to the door and palmed the light switch, flooding the room with bright light.
Her heart was beating hard and fast. Her breathing shallow and quick. Her focus remained fixed on the glaring yellow note. There was only one entry and one exit to her room and that was via the hall.
She snatched her mobile, then the book, from her bedside table and went to the living room, switching on lights on the way. She placed the book on the couch and finally allowed herself to read the note.
I see you.
A stream of shivers ran up and down her spine, spread along her arms. Her throat was closing over as fear budded. Her muscles twitched. Teeth ground hard together.
Her first thought was, Had Chris done this? But after forcing herse
lf to sift through her memories of that day, she was certain he hadn’t gone into her room. He had been in her sight the entire time. So, whoever had come inside, had done so between the time she had made her bed that morning and now.
A tremble racked her. Her teeth chattered.
She was almost too afraid to look at the footage on her phone, but she had to. She needed to know if she should call the police and, most importantly, if she finally had proof that someone had been inside her home.
Fast-forwarding at triple speed, she zoomed through the recorded footage from the moment the cameras were set up till now. She viewed herself walking up and down the hall at various stages throughout the day, but not one other person.
No one.
She raced back up the hall to her bedroom window and lifted the frame, but the secured lock kept it firmly in place. Impossible to lock it on the way back out; it had to be done internally once the window was closed. Every other window was locked, too. She had double- and triple-checked them over the past week.
Tears filled her eyes because no other explanation remained. It had to be her writing the notes.
Chapter 16
Isabelle stood at the kitchen sink, gazing out the back window at Chris. His arm muscles flexed as he heaved big, round pots filled with soil and green bushy trees, positioning them around the patio’s perimeter. The masculine energy of it all was stimulating.
Operating a business and being a single mother had left little time for outdoor maintenance. Isabelle’s yard had never received more care than a teenage kid running a lawnmower over it every other week. Chris, in a matter of a few months, had turned it from straw to lush grass. The edges were trimmed and neat and the cut was even.
A hand floated to her stomach, and she smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. Imagining their life once the baby came into the world filled her with playful buoyancy. Witnessing Juliette’s reaction had set her world right and given her permission to feel elated about this pregnancy.
She had even gathered the courage to call her parents. They were shocked, but they weren’t unhappy either and that met all expectations that Isabelle had. A heavy burden of weight had dissolved the moment she ended that call.
Chris glanced through the window and caught her watching. She smiled bashfully, her cheeks flushing. “What would you like for dinner tonight?”
“Whatever you feel like. I’ll give you free rein for the next nine months.”
She giggled. He was trying to help, so she refrained from explaining that she would rather he decided for her. She wouldn’t have asked otherwise. Her ability to make up her mind about things, especially food, was limited at the moment.
Isabelle finished loading the dishwasher and took a tray of chicken out of the freezer to defrost on the bench. A salad and grilled chicken were now on the menu for dinner, although, by that evening, she would probably feel like something completely different.
She cleared rubbish from the kitchen bench and pressed her foot onto the small garbage bin’s pedal to open the lid. It flicked up more quickly than she had anticipated and a few loose papers that had been shoved on top flew out onto the floor. She dropped the rubbish into the bin, then swooped up the papers, noting with a glance that they were recent receipts. One was from a big hardware store for one hundred and fifty dollars. The second was from an electronics store for a little over one thousand dollars. Two security cameras.
“What did you buy security cameras for?” she called to Chris.
“Pardon?”
“Come here.”
He stood at the backscreen door and she held up the receipt. “What did you buy security cameras for?”
“Oh, that’s for Tina. She’s been having some weird stuff going on at home.”
Isabelle flinched at her husband’s use of the word home. “What kind of stuff?”
“Someone has been getting inside and leaving notes.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah. I suggested I get some cameras and set them up around her house.”
“So, this is where you were this morning?”
He nodded, looked away.
“I thought you said you were going to look for tools?”
“I did.”
“But you didn’t tell me you were also spending the morning with your ex.”
He opened the screen door and stepped inside. It snapped loudly behind him as it closed. “It’s not like that, Issy, and you know it.”
“Did she pay you back for the cameras?”
“I can’t expect her to come up with a thousand dollars.”
Hands on her hips. “You do remember she’s your ex, right?”
He sighed.
“You can’t continue paying for stuff like this. Her life has nothing to do with you anymore. We’re about to have a baby, and you’re out spending a thousand dollars on Tina behind my back.” She motioned towards the spare room that would soon become a nursery. “We could have bought a cot and a pram with that money.”
“And we’ll still be able to buy everything this baby will ever need.”
Her rigid stance softened a little. “We need to start thinking about us. If she wants expensive cameras, she can get a better job.”
A brow arched, a tic in his jaw as his teeth clamped tight together.
Her nose wrinkled. “What does that look mean?”
“Could you afford them? Without me, that is?”
“Don’t you dare,” she shrieked. “I don’t ask for a cent from you.”
“Nor should you have to. We’re a partner—”
“You’re not my knight in shining armour coming in with a full bank account.”
“I never said I was. But don’t ask me to desert someone who was once a big part of my life. One little payment isn’t going to hurt you or the baby.”
“I don’t understand this relationship with her.”
An angry sigh as he shuffled a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Issy. People don’t always have to hate their ex. People can be civilised and get along.”
“Do you still love her?”
He hesitated.
Her breath was stolen from her throat and her shoulders slouched.
“I don’t have feelings for her in a romantic sense,” he said quickly.
“Why the delay?” Her question was weak, hoarse sounding.
“Because I was trying to think of how to phrase it diplomatically.”
“How about you try the truth rather than diplomacy. When do you go back to the mine?”
“Next Sunday,” he answered, eyes narrowed.
“Right, well you can sleep at a mate’s house until then.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
She pointed at him with jutting motions. “No, you stop being ridiculous! Get your priorities in line. I will not be let down by a man again.”
“And I won’t be blamed for what some overzealous teenage boy did to you two decades ago.” His voice was harsh and accusative.
“Get out. Now, before I slap your smug face.”
He moved past her not saying another word. That was why they should have bought an entirely new place together instead of Chris shacking up in one Isabelle already owned. He had done nothing wrong and yet he was the one scurrying from there with his tail between his legs.
He was a grown man, not a seventeen-year-old kid, so he wasn’t about to burden a mate with that petty relationship bullshit. He would find a hotel instead and wait it out.
Chapter 17
Maddison cut her nightly workout short. Her body could not take another self-inflicted beating. The toxicity of her hangover yesterday still lingered deep in her aching muscles. So, she sat there, on her workbench, staring, listening to the happenings upstairs until Ben, at last, went to bed.
Tiptoeing, she headed up the stairs, into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of sauvignon blanc from the fridge. Delicious white wine, French grapes, made in New Zealand. Not that any of that mattered. She would gladly pour it from
a cask if that didn’t highlight something about her nightly habits she wasn’t ready to admit.
Maddison had watched a show about the growing population of middle-aged women across Australia who drank themselves to sleep each night, yet still managed to wake in time for the school run and could function in their day job. By functioning in their lives, they could hide the underlying addiction problem from the community and themselves.
Maddison found one too many similarities to those women’s stories but had managed to twist and mould her growing dependence on alcohol and prescription drugs into something less ugly. Something socially acceptable. Tolerable.
She positioned her wine on the table under the overhead lights, sat behind it and smiled wide as she snapped a selfie using her smartphone. She uploaded the picture along with an upbeat description on her social media feeds.
Quiet Night in with hubby. #lovinglife.
As the likes and comments flowed in from old friends, family and people she barely ever saw in real life, she drank glass after glass of wine until she had squeezed the last drop from the bottle.
Her sobriety morphed into a lightheaded spin of thoughts and sight. She smiled again for the camera as she held up her fourth full-to-the-brim glass of sauvignon blanc, ensured a beauty filter was on, tilted her chin upward, and snapped a picture.
She uploaded the picture with Cheers, everyone! I hope you’re all enlkoying your Saburday night. #lovinglide #Saturdaynightim.
By the time she hit the bottom of that glass, her mind was muzzy. Each blink hurt as her lids scratched against tired eyes. She mechanically sought out her supply of Zolpidem from above the fridge, took two and stumbled up the hall for a long, hot shower.
* * *
Bright light behind Maddison’s eyes. A poke at her ribs. The sound of a child’s voice.
“Mummy, there’s a lady here,” said a six-year-old girl as she crouched beside Maddison.
Maddison dragged her eyelids open, squinted against the blast of sunlight and gazed into the face of the small girl. Big brown eyes stared down at her. The girl smiled.
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