Secrets of Silvergum

by Mandy Magro

  Placing the bowl of whipped cream in the fridge for the time being, she shuddered as if icy fingers had run up her spine. A home was meant to be full of warmth and love and security, but all she felt in this place was loathing and fear. But she could do this – she just had to. The funeral done and dusted, the wake had now begun – a few more hours and it would all be over, and she and Riley could move on with their lives. The sun-drenched kitchen was a hive of activity; too much for her quivering nerves. She excused herself, desperately needing a few moments to calm down. She forced a smile she was far from feeling as she saw Riley, pausing briefly to brush a kiss over her cheek in passing.

  Touched by something far deeper than the gloomy hallway, she shivered as she made her way to the bathroom, the scorching temperatures outside doing nothing to rid the chill of the place. She didn’t need directions; she’d walked the floorboards of this house a hundred times over. With tall-ceilinged hallways and rooms all leading out to the wide, wrap-around verandah, the grand Wattle Acres homestead was both striking and eerie, with the shadows of days gone by lingering in every corner.

  Splashing cool water on her face and then drying her hands on the guest towel, Emma paused to stare at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked tired; the haunted look in her eyes something she could do nothing to conceal. Hopefully, people would think it was because of her sadness and shock, dealing with Peter’s death. Little did they know just how much she despised the man and was relieved with his passing. Taking a few minutes to calm down, she then turned on her heel and wandered back towards the kitchen. Passing through the doorway, she forced a smile in Riley’s direction and got back to work, desperate to keep her trembling hands busy. Putting away some cartons of milk, she fought to steady her galloping heartbeat. Her senses on high alert, she could hear the pendulum of the grandfather clock in the nearby lounge room swinging back and forth: tick, tock, tick, tock. Very soon it would be chiming the hour, and she knew the sound would send her nerves firing on all cylinders. The walls of the old homestead started to feel as though they were closing in on her; she used all the strength she had to remain composed as she grabbed a cloth and wiped down the already spick and span benches. She had to hold it together for Riley’s sake. On the outside she hoped she appeared unruffled, but inside it felt as if her heart had become a stone in her chest, so heavy it could almost crush her.

  Desperate to get out of her head, she turned her attention to the ABC radio humming softly in the background, the announcer way too chirpy for a day like today. Staring into the sink filled with suds, she dropped the cloth and fought to stay focused on washing up, a tough ask while standing in the exact spot where she’d done something that had altered all of their lives almost sixteen years ago. For what felt like the millionth time, she wondered where they’d buried him. An outsider, he hadn’t been missed from Silvergum. She wondered if he’d been reported missing wherever he was from.

  Her mind zigzagging back to the day after Riley’s eighth birthday party – the last time she’d stepped foot in here – she shuddered when she recalled Peter’s hands locked around her throat as if it were only yesterday. Dropping off the ironing she used to do for him for a bit of extra cash – he never handed it out freely – she’d already made the decision it would be the final time she did so. With Peter’s car at the mechanics, she’d mistakenly thought he wasn’t home. Reeking of stale alcohol, he’d cornered her, invading her personal space until she’d had her back pressed up against the wall. She’d begged him to stop, and maybe she’d cried; she couldn’t remember. Wrapping his hands around her throat, tightly enough for her to be gasping for breath, he’d reminded her of his threats the day before, had hit home the necessity for her to never speak a word of the DNA results, to anyone, ever. For a fleeting moment, she’d believed her life was about to end, but then he’d unfurled his fingers, roaring at her to get the hell out of his house and never come back.

  Drawing in a shaky breath while fighting off the haunting memories, she carefully placed the bowl she’d just washed on the draining rack. Urgently needing fresh air, she leant over the sink and tried to tug the window open. It didn’t budge, so she tried harder, reaching up on her toes as she rested her hips against the sink for leverage. It finally sprung free, and a breeze licked the sheer curtain upwards. She drew in a deep breath, feeling a little calmer with the cool air. As she stood back down she knocked the kickboard under the cupboard with her foot. It fell in, so, grumbling to herself, she knelt down and pushed it back into place. Even with all the money Peter had, the homestead was falling apart. Everywhere she looked, she could see timberwork that needed a lick of paint, rooms that could do with some tender loving care, something Peter knew nothing about.

  Holding the edge of the sink and pulling herself to standing, she startled as Renee tossed an arm over her shoulder. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah, sort of.’ She nervously glanced about, making sure none of the women working in the kitchen were listening. ‘I can’t wait for today to be over.’

  ‘After what you told me, that’s understandable, my friend.’ She gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘I’m right here beside you.’

  Emma smiled appreciatively. ‘Thanks, Rennie.’

  Renee brushed a kiss over her cheek. ‘I’ve finished putting the cream, strawberries and passionfruit on the pav, so I’m just going to pop to the loo before we take it all outside,’ she said. ‘Can you point me in the right direction? This house is like a maze and I’m bloody busting.’

  ‘Down the hall, three doors to your left.’

  ‘Thanks, be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’

  ‘I need to go too, Aunty Rennie,’ Riley called after her. ‘Back in a sec, Mum.’

  ‘Of course, no worries, love.’

  Catching her eye, Granny May came over and wrapped a protective arm around her waist. ‘It must be hard, being here.’

  ‘It sure is.’ Emma breathed out. Little did Granny May know just how hard it was, and why.

  ‘Head high and shoulders back, love.’ She moved closer to Emma. ‘The old bastard is gone for good, so life will be a heck of a lot easier for you and Riley now he’s not in Michael’s ear all the time, trying to come up with ways to make you suffer,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Very true.’ She patted Granny May’s weathered hand. ‘Thanks so much for helping out today. I couldn’t have done it without you and your lovely CWA crew.’

  ‘It’s our pleasure, treasure. We women have to stick together, especially in the hard times.’ She clapped her hands, her bangles jingling. ‘Right then, let’s get this prep finished and this show on the road …’ She looked over at her CWA friends. ‘Shall we, ladies?’

  There was collective agreement and the activity in the kitchen became even more hectic. Her temples throbbing, Emma turned and gazed out the window at a few kids playing on the back verandah; their laughter was uplifting. Just hearing a child’s glee made her feel as though everything was going to be all right in the world. She looked at all the guests standing around in the backyard, some with beers, others with wine, and only a few with cups of tea or coffee. She wondered how many were there for the free alcohol and food. Worried that Zane might be feeling like a fish out of water amongst them all, she tried to catch sight of him, but he was still nowhere to be seen. As they’d left the cemetery, he’d said he’d be here. Maybe he’d had second thoughts, and to be honest, after the way Michael had shunned and shamed him at the funeral, she couldn’t blame him one little bit. Zane had paid his respects, so in her opinion, job done.

  With so many thoughts crowding her mind, she tried to ignore the profound ache in her heart and the crushing guilt sitting on her shoulders as she wiped her hands on a tea towel and hung it back on the oven door. Adding the last of the curried egg and lettuce sandwiches Granny May had just made to the sandwich platter, she covered it with some plastic wrap and placed it with the rest of the dishes to go outside just as Riley and Renee returned. Like a well-oiled
machine, she, Riley and the rest of the women picked up whatever they could carry and began marching towards the back door.

  Squinting into the glorious sunshine, a decent-looking chocolate mud cake balanced in one hand and a nibbles platter in the other, Emma headed to the trestle tables set up under the towering paperbark trees. Why she’d agreed to take charge of the catering for the wake was beyond her, but then again, it had been important to Riley and she hadn’t been able to say no at the time. Riley’s spirits had lifted since leaving the cemetery, so it had clearly been the right decision.

  Emma looked around the back lawn again for Zane, while reminding herself it was purely out of concern for him. Even with over a hundred people on the lawn, and many in the cool shade of the verandah, trying to escape the soaring temperatures, she saw him almost instantly. Strikingly tall, deliciously tattooed, the epitome of dark and handsome, and with the air of a good man but bad boy, he hadn’t changed much over the years, other than becoming more manly, more tempting, and all the more charming. One glimpse of him last night and it felt as if all the years had just faded away, and she was right back there, in his bedroom at the cottage, the pair of them tearing clothes from each other – a naïve, scared seventeen-year-old girl desperate for him not to go, not to leave her for his bull-riding dreams. She’d been so torn between her feelings for him and Michael, both of them dear to her in their own ways. If Zane had just once told her he would commit to her, that he wanted to be with her and make a life together, there was a huge chance she would have broken it off with Michael. She’d loved him then, just like she loved him now, but her need to be with a man who would give her the family life she’d dreamed of won over. It had been a case of letting her head rule and not her heart. Big mistake.

  Leaning against the verandah railing, his attention seemed to be locked on the horizon, as though in the deepest of thoughts. She didn’t need to see the sky-blue eyes, hidden with dark sunglasses, to know they would be shadowed with memories of this place. His black hat was down low, hiding his face. His shirt pulled against his muscular chest, and his black jeans hugged him in all the right places. Putting the mud cake on the table, her eyes trailed down his torso, to the silver belt buckle shining beneath his tucked-in shirt. She fought hard not to go down any further but couldn’t help herself. She knew all too well the pleasures that lay beneath that taut denim. God how she wanted him to stay, to make a life back here in Silvergum, near her, and not only because he was Riley’s father. She’d missed him so much over the years, although hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge it. But now he was here, she was helpless to ignore it any longer. He was the only man she’d ever truly craved with every inch of her being, the only man she’d ever truly loved. He’d finally come home, but not to stay. Maybe what she had to tell him was going to change all of that.

  Too restless to sit with the other women, and with all the food out and already being devoured, she made her way towards him, feeling Michael’s eyes burning a hole in her back as she did. She’d usually be more vigilant, not wanting to upset the apple cart, but after the way Michael had treated him at the church, she didn’t give a damn what her ex-husband thought, or felt, about her undeniable connection with Zane.

  As though sensing her, Zane turned and the warm smile that claimed his lips told her everything she needed to know. Resting his forearm on the railing, he watched her approach. Her emotions overwhelmed her as she climbed the few steps.

  ‘You hanging in there?’ she whispered, unsure of what else to say.

  ‘Yeah, all good, Em.’ Lifting his sunglasses, his eyes skidded over her. ‘How ’bout you, how are you coping being back here?’

  ‘Not great …’ She shrugged. ‘But I’m trying not to let it get to me.’ She fell silent, her thoughts churning. There was plenty more she could add, like how she’d thought about him often, or how she had cried for weeks, months even, after he’d left the shores of Australia.

  ‘Yeah, me too. I’m trying to focus on all the good memories here, especially the ones with Mum, and you.’ He grinned and shook his head. ‘Far out, we used to have some good old-fashioned country fun, didn’t we? Especially in the saddle and swimming in the dam until we were a pair of prunes.’

  ‘We sure did. Those were the days, huh.’ She came in close to him and leant on the railing, leaving little space between them. ‘So much has happened since then, it feels like a lifetime ago.’

  ‘It kinda was, I suppose.’ He released a long sigh. ‘You know, as much as I’ve avoided it, I’m going to miss this place. It’s the only home I’ve ever really known, when Mum was alive, that is, and it’s where her memory lives on for me. It’ll kind of be like losing her all over again, never stepping a foot back here.’

  Emma’s heart stopped. ‘You never know what’s around the corner … you might end up with Wattle Acres yet.’ Even as the words left her lips, she didn’t believe them. ‘Stranger things have happened,’ she added.

  ‘Thanks for trying to be upbeat about it, Em, but I doubt it.’ His chiselled features hardened as he shrugged. ‘It’s not a secret there was no love lost between Peter and me, so he sure as hell wouldn’t have left much, if anything at all, to me, even though this was Mum’s place to begin with. I don’t even understand why I have to be at the reading of the will tomorrow to be honest, but I’ll do the right thing and go along.’

  Emma’s heart squeezed with the sight of the shadows in his eyes. So much hurt had been caused over the years, and she’d been helpless to stop any of it. The thought that she was only going to add to it, tore her to pieces. ‘I wish I could come with you tomorrow morning, for moral support.’ She reached out and touched his hand, feeling as though she was touching fire. Electricity sizzled up her arm and stung her heart.

  ‘Thanks, Em, not that I would let you be locked in the same room as Michael and me, it could get ugly knowing us two.’ He chuckled. ‘But seriously, it means a lot, you wanting to be here for me, especially when no other bastard is.’

  ‘No matter what, I’ll always be here for you, Zane.’ She longed to wrap her arms around him but was afraid of what she might do if she was that close to him again. ‘I know we’d fallen out of touch, but I’d like to change that now you’ve come back and we’ve smoothed it over.’

  ‘You’re a good woman, Em. Michael was a fool, treating you the way he did, but then again, the bastard never deserved you in the first place. I know you loved him when you married him, but I knew he would eventually let you down. You’re way too good-hearted for a man like him.’ Scorn bit into his harsh tone. ‘He’s too self-obsessed to ever give you, and Riley for that matter, the love and respect you both deserve.’ He paused, looking in Riley’s direction, a soft smile easing the tension in his expression. ‘If I were Riley’s father, I’d be loving that girl like there’s no tomorrow.’ He turned to Emma. ‘She beautiful, inside and out, just like you are.’

  Emma found herself at a complete loss for words. The shockwave Zane had innocently just shot her way almost sent her crumpling to the floor. She gripped the railing hard to stay upright, hoping to god Zane didn’t notice the whites of her knuckles, or the sudden paleness of her face. She needed to change the direction of the conversation before she told him everything – now wasn’t the time, or place. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Desperate for a drink, she grabbed his half empty beer from the bannister and sculled it.

  His eyes widened and he laughed. ‘You right there?’

  She stifled a small burp and wiped her lips. ‘Uh-huh. Sorry, was parched.’ She held up the empty stubby. ‘Want me to go and get you another from the esky?’

  ‘Nah, thanks, I wasn’t really in the mood for that one anyway.’

  ‘After our efforts last night, I can’t say I blame you for feeling a bit on the seedy side.’ She offered him a wayward smile. ‘So, are you going to hang around Silvergum, for a while at least?’

  ‘I’m not planning on staying any longer than necessary. I want to be out of
here before Michael puts the place on the market. I couldn’t bear to watch it be sold off.’ He rubbed his face, his chest rising and falling with his rough breath. ‘My plane is booked for five days’ time, and then I’m outta here.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Even though she suspected as much, it was hard to hide her disappointment. ‘But what if hell freezes over and you end up with this place … would you stay then?’

  ‘I hadn’t really thought about it, because there’s no way it’s going to happen, but yeah, I probably would … at the very least for Mum’s sake.’ He straightened up. ‘But Michael’s going to get it, and being the money hungry bastard he is, he’ll definitely sell it. I can’t even bear thinking about it, not with Mum’s ashes spread here.’ His voice cracked, and he looked away from her, drumming his fingers on the balustrade.

  Emma regarded him thoughtfully, while choosing her next words carefully. ‘I really think, regardless of what happens tomorrow, you should stick around for a while.’ She picked at the corners of the soggy beer label.

  ‘Why, what have I got to stick around for?’ His hasty words hit hard and left a hollow sensation in her stomach.

  She shrugged. ‘Maybe you could stay at the cottage and spend some time with Riley. She could use a male around for a bit, and I could use a hand around the place.’