Secrets of Silvergum

by Mandy Magro

  ‘Thank you so very much, dear.’ The old lady smiled warmly.

  ‘No worries at all.’ His arms full, he returned her smile. ‘Not too sure where we’re going to put these now the bag is busted.’

  ‘Oh, I know.’ She opened her handbag wide. ‘How about in here?’

  ‘That’ll do.’ He carefully offloaded his armful and made sure to help her to the sidewalk. Some cars were now going around where he’d left his – the world stopped for no one, not even an old lady. ‘You live far from here?’ he asked with a tip of his hat.

  She pointed up the street, her frail hand shaking from age. ‘I’m only three doors up.’ She turned back to him and patted him on the arm. ‘You should get moving …’ She gestured towards the long line of cars now banked up. ‘I don’t think you’re going to be too popular otherwise.’

  ‘Let them wait, I have a fair maiden I’m saving.’ He grinned gallantly. ‘And besides, I’m not one for popularity.’

  ‘Well, aren’t we a charmer? It’s nice to see chivalry isn’t dead.’ A blush rising to her cheeks, she smiled even wider. ‘There should be more like you. Thanks again.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ He tipped his hat. ‘You have yourself a nice day.’

  ‘I’m going home for a nice cup of tea and some fresh scones, so I most certainly will.’

  Back behind the wheel, he tried not to slam his foot to the floor in his haste. Two blocks down and he was there. ‘Wolfe and Son Lawyers’ was written in bold black letters across the shopfront. His guts twisted and knotted; thanks to his good deed he was late. Parked and out of the driver’s seat in seconds, he took long strides towards the foyer, the corridor as cold and dark as he remembered it to be. Mary greeted him and ushered him towards a large corner office with views of the adjacent park; it had been Peter’s office, where he had done all his dirty deals.

  ‘Zane’s here to see you, George.’ Introduction done, Mary gave Zane a warm smile and quickly excused herself.

  Zane looked to where Michael was sitting beside a vaguely familiar, grey-haired man at a dark oak table, scattered files and folders in front of them. He nodded a greeting.

  ‘’Bout time.’ Michael’s sneer wasn’t lost on him, and neither was his belligerent glare – a warning of the storm about to come. Even with a black eye and a swollen lip, he was evidently itching for another round. But there was no point in adding fuel to the fire, so Zane zipped it.

  The solicitor stood and then held out his hand. ‘Zane …’ His tone was as bland as his grey suit and matching tie. ‘It’s been a very long time. You probably don’t remember me?’

  Zane reached out, noting George’s grasp was soft and his hand was sweaty. ‘Not really, sorry I’ve kept you waiting,’ he said flatly.

  ‘Can’t be helped, I’m sure.’ Bushy grey brows shadowed narrow eyes. The man gestured towards the table. ‘Have a seat and let’s get started, shall we?’

  Zane sat as far away from Michael as he could, just out of arm-swinging range.

  George picked up a pile of papers and straightened them. ‘I know it’s a difficult time, but I’m afraid this has to be done, and the sooner the better as I have to fly out of the country tomorrow to finish off the business Peter was attending to in Germany.’

  ‘Harder for some than others,’ Michael said, as he leant back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head.

  Zane bit his tongue even harder. Choose your battles, he thought, as his hands fisted beneath the table.

  ‘Cat got your tongue today, Zane?’ Michael looked at him with cold eyes.

  Heaving in a deep breath, Zane shrugged. ‘Why bother speaking when I have nothing to say to you.’

  ‘Really, that’s all you’ve got for me? A bit of a change from yesterday, when you were swinging your fists like some barbaric ape.’ Michael straightened his tie. ‘And at my father’s wake, of all places.’

  Zane’s fists tightened even more beneath the table. ‘If you’d learn to keep your dirty hands off Emma, and treat her with the respect she deserves, especially seeing as she’s the mother of your child, I wouldn’t have had to knock some damn sense into you.’

  Michael smirked. ‘After leaving me the way she did, Emma doesn’t deserve my respect.’

  ‘You were having an affair, what did you bloody expect?’

  ‘Well, if she put out every now and again, I wouldn’t have gone looking for it elsewhere.’

  Zane’s fury engulfed him. ‘You want to go another round, do you?’ He leant forwards in his chair to make his point.

  Michael swivelled around and pulled something from a drawer in his father’s old desk, his gaze malevolent as he placed a handgun on the table. ‘Do it again and we’ll see what happens.’

  Shocked, Zane looked from the gun to Michael and back again. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Now, now, you two, enough is enough.’ George’s tone was brusque. ‘Put that thing away, Michael, and you …’ He turned his steely gaze to Zane. ‘Don’t even think about raising a hand to him or I’ll have you charged with assault.’

  ‘Do what the man says, Michael,’ Zane said.

  ‘Cocky bastard, aren’t you?’ Snatching the gun from the table, Michael stood up and tossed it back in the drawer.

  ‘So that’s how you get business done around here, huh, with a gun?’ A hard smile curled the corners of Zane’s tight lips. ‘Real nice that is.’

  ‘Cut the shit, would you? The only reason you came to Australia was to find out if you’ve got any inheritance.’ Michael’s tone was arctic.

  ‘Is that so? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but not everything’s about money, Michael,’ he said dismissively.

  ‘Maybe not to someone that’s never earnt it.’ He sat down heavily.

  Talk about trying to rub salt into the damn wound. ‘Oh, for god’s sake, Michael. You have no idea what it’s like to have to work to the bone to make a living. You were born into this and have had everything handed to you on a silver platter, whereas I’ve worked for what I have.’

  Michael leant forward, his palms pressed against the table. ‘Is that jealousy I hear talking?’

  Over the drama, Zane huffed. ‘Take it however you want, I damn well give up arguing with you over bullshit.’ He shook his head. ‘You’ve always been a bloody drama queen, and a bully. Emma’s right, you’re never going to change.’

  ‘Emma’s right?’ He scrunched up his face. ‘What the hell are you on about? Have you two been talking about me behind my back?’

  Zane simply shrugged.

  ‘Well, screw the pair of you.’ Michael’s face becoming redder by the second, his fists connected with the oak table, making the crystal decanter and matching glasses at the centre of it shudder. ‘And why shouldn’t I be handed everything on a silver platter, when I’m blood and I stuck by my father’s side … unlike you, the adopted bastard who’s too busy riding bulls and women to give a shit about what goes on round here.’ Michael’s eyes were flinting with anger as he shoved his seat back, stood up again and then stepped away from the table, his chin high and his jaw clenched.

  ‘I followed my dreams, Michael, not the smell of Peter’s money.’ Zane’s gut churned and his face singed hot, but he kept himself planted firmly in the seat. Standing would only spell more trouble.

  ‘I’ve heard enough,’ George growled. ‘Now let’s get this done and dusted so we can all get on with our day.’ Producing a scrunched-up handkerchief, he mopped his brow and then tucked it back into his pocket. ‘Can we please just try to keep this civil, for god’s sake.’ With his index finger, he nudged his glasses further up his nose, and then tapped the paperwork.

  Michael grunted and sat.

  ‘Yup, sorry.’ Zane took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down before he leapt across the table and grabbed Michael by his ridiculous tie.

  ‘First things first, as you both probably already have guessed, Michael is the sole beneficiary of Peter’s estate.’

  ‘Yup, no surprises
there, George,’ Zane said matter-of-factly.

  Sitting up straighter, Michael grinned like the cat that had got the cream.

  ‘Although, he has left one thing to you, Zane …’ Rifling through the paperwork, George found a typed sheet and handed it over to him. ‘I’ll let you discover for yourself what it is.’

  Stunned, Zane took it from him and read through it. It appeared he was the sole heir to Kay’s father’s pride and joy, a beat-up old LandCruiser that would no doubt be in desperate need of repair. Nonetheless, he’d spent many happy hours in it as a kid, when he and his adoptive grandad had driven around Wattle Acres, checking the cattle and fixing fences.

  ‘In preparation for today, I’d already organised for it to be fixed up at the mechanics, so it could be re-registered. It’s being dropped off to the pub as we speak. I’d guessed Michael would be none too happy about you going to collect it from Wattle Acres.’

  Michael grunted his agreement.

  George cleared his throat as he looked through the pile of paperwork again. ‘Oh, and can you drop this over to Emma please, Zane?’ He held out a sealed yellow envelope. ‘For some reason, Peter has requested you handle the delivery of it.’

  Michael’s grin had all but faded. ‘What’s this letter about, George?’

  ‘I have no idea. I’m just following Peter’s instructions.’

  Zane took it and then shoved it in his back pocket before Michael had a chance to grab it and tear it open – something he wouldn’t put past him. ‘I’m heading over there after we’re finished, so no problem.’

  ‘You’ve organised to go over to Emma’s?’ Michael looked as if he were about to explode.

  ‘Oh, yeah, she’s offered for me to stay for a couple of days, until I go back to the States.’ Zane took pleasure in the way Michael squirmed in his seat.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, Michael appeared to gather himself as he blew it out. ‘You’ve always wanted what you can’t have, haven’t you, Zane?’

  ‘Are we finished here, George?’ Zane asked.

  George nodded.

  Having heard enough of Michael’s crap for one day, Zane stood. ‘Is that jealousy I hear, Michael?’ Grinning triumphantly, he acknowledged George with a tip of his head, turned and walked out, choosing to ignore whatever Michael was bellowing after him.

  CHAPTER 14

  Dangling precariously into the fourteen-litre washing machine while trying to retrieve an ankle sock from its depths, Emma cursed the day she’d thought a big machine would be the best way to go.

  ‘Oh god, Mum,’ Riley said, coming up behind her. ‘You’re gonna fall head first into there one of these days.’ Her laughter was a beautiful sound.

  ‘Been there, done that, love.’ Sock in hand, Emma resurfaced, grinning as she waved it about. ‘I got the little bugger.’

  Riley punched the air. ‘Good for you … now you just have to find all the other odd socks of mine that seem to disappear and mission accomplished.’

  ‘Ha-ha, true.’ Emma eyed Riley up and down, smiling. Dressed in spangled jeans and a nice blouse, Riley was no longer a little girl.

  ‘What?’ Riley eyed her curiously.

  ‘Nothing, you just look so lovely, sweetheart.’

  ‘Why thank ya.’ Riley brushed a hand over her flat stomach. ‘This shirt doesn’t make me look fat, does it?’

  ‘Oh, Riley, you haven’t got an ounce of fat on you.’ Playfully slapping her with the sock, she then tossed it in the overflowing basket. ‘Did you grab the fifty dollars out of my wallet?’

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ Riley hugged her. ‘Thanks for saying yes to me hanging out with Jasmine this arvo.’

  ‘Of course, love.’ Emma kissed her forehead. ‘I’m glad you and Jasmine are hanging out again. She’s a lovely girl.’

  ‘Yeah, me too, I can’t blame her for fobbing me off when I started hanging around Ben and his loser friends – they’re nothing like Jasmine.’ Her message tone bleeping, Riley grabbed her phone from her back pocket. ‘They’re almost here. I’ll go wait out front for them.’

  ‘Okay, have fun at the movies, and please make sure you’re back by dark.’

  ‘Yes, I promise – Mrs Ambles is going to drop us back once we’re done. I want to make sure I’m here to have dinner with Uncle Zane.’ She smiled. ‘I’m glad he’s staying for a few days. I only have vague memories of him, but the ones I do have make me feel happy. It’ll be nice to spend some time with him, get to know him a bit before he heads off again.’

  ‘Yeah, it sure will be.’ Emma cupped Riley’s cheek, the word ‘uncle’ circling in her brain. ‘I love you so much. You know that, right?’

  ‘Of course.’ Riley placed her hand over her mother’s. ‘Love you too, Mum.’

  Tiny’s excited barking was swiftly followed by the sound of car tyres crunching on gravel.

  ‘Right, that’s my cue to move it.’

  Following Riley to the front door, Emma gave Jasmine’s mother a wave. ‘Thank you for taking them, Jane.’

  ‘My pleasure, Em.’

  Having said his doggy hellos to their visitors, Tiny ran up to her side then followed her back to the laundry. Hauling the washing basket through the back door and out to the clothesline, Emma began pegging the clothes out while Tiny flopped at her bare feet. The scrunch of the grass underfoot felt good – as though grounding her to her roots. The air was tinged with the scent of jasmine and wild lavender, and she could just hear the bubbling of the creek up the back. Vivid pink and purple bougainvillea had grown across the back fence over the years, and butterflies flittered and danced above the flowers. The buzzing of the native bees combined with the call of cicadas and the cackle of a kookaburra to create a country symphony worthy of her applause. With a clear view of the surrounding paddocks dotted with her rotund grass-fed cows, she smiled at the exquisiteness of it all. Serendipity was her and Riley’s haven, and she loved it with all her heart and soul.

  Job done, she headed back towards the homestead. Hearing her mobile ringing from inside the house, she dashed for it, thinking it might have been Riley saying she’d forgotten something – which was well on the cards knowing her forgetful daughter.

  She looked to the caller ID and had to draw a breath. ‘Hey, Michael, to what do I owe this call?’

  ‘What do you think you’re playing at, having Zane there, Emma?’

  She gritted her teeth to stop from telling him to go jump. ‘He’s not staying here, Michael. He’s going to be camping in the cottage.’ Her tone was icy and she didn’t care.

  ‘Same diff, Emma.’ He grunted. ‘I don’t want him there.’

  Every one of her muscles clenched in defence to his arrogance. ‘How dare you try and tell me who I can have here. This is my home, and I’ll do as I damn well please.’

  ‘But my daughter lives there, so legally, no you can’t do as you damn well please.’

  ‘So now you’re going to use the law to try and get your way?’

  ‘Maybe I am.’

  ‘You haven’t got an ounce of goodness in your heart, have you?’

  ‘Now that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?’

  ‘You’ve never been a father to Riley, but now that Zane’s staying here for a few days, you want to exert your parental rights.’ Furious, she didn’t wait for him to respond. ‘Well, Michael, do your damn best, because you don’t scare me anymore, and I’m not your little puppet you get to control.’

  ‘Who said I’m trying to scare you?’

  Michael the epitome of a gas lighter, Emma knew all too well it was pointless to argue with him, because that’s exactly what he wanted. So she drew in a deep breath and calmed herself. ‘Thanks for the call, I have to go now.’ As she stabbed the end call button, the crushing weight she’d been carrying for what felt like an eternity bore down even harder on her shoulders. She wondered if Michael would even give a damn that Riley wasn’t his.

  As she paced in circles, her mobile rang again, and of course, it was Michael. She ignore
d it this time – it would only end with her in tears. Fuming, she put the mobile on the bench, grabbed a bridle from where she’d left it hanging from the back of a dining chair, stormed through the house and pushed open the front screen door. The ever-increasing heat was like a furnace blast, the weeping willows lining the driveway appearing even more exhausted than they usually did. She looked at her watch. She had about an hour before Zane arrived. Enough time to go for a blast on her horse, to help rid her of this overwhelming feeling of disaster.

  Her boots on in record time, she leapt down the steps and crossed the yard, whistling for her right-hand man. Tiny appeared from under the house, his face covered in dirt and his tail whipping excitedly. Life was always a wonderful adventure in his eyes, and she wished she felt the same way. She stroked his head and received a lick of comfort in return. With her loyal mate at her side, she strode towards the stables and saddled up her beautiful boy. Other than her father, the only males she’d ever been able to rely on over the years were the four-legged kind.

  Twenty minutes later she and Bundy had passed over the paddocks and were heading through the scrublands that surrounded Serendipity. Usually taking great satisfaction in the magic of the Australian bushlands she called home, she was too preoccupied to find solace within Mother Nature’s heart. She rode in deep thought – things were going to go from bad to worse, she could feel it in her bones. Knowing she had to take action terrified her, but it had to be done. When? was the question assaulting her every waking thought.

  The headache she’d awoken with at five this morning was still hammering relentlessly, Michael’s phone call only adding to its intensity. Her compassionate nature left her wanting to feel sorry for him, but how could she when the man had done nothing to earn her sympathy but only her resentment? She frowned with the thought. He’d always got his own way in their relationship. But not anymore. She was her own woman, her own person – he wasn’t going to boss her around any longer.