by Sarah Barrie
A quick look up at the house showed her the light in Cliff’s upstairs window was still on. It was reassuring to know someone else was up, awake. I’ll become accustomed to this place, she told herself again. Then she swished back inside, because she really wasn’t sure she would, and locked the door.
CHAPTER
10
For the next few days, blustery winds and the odd bit of sleet made conditions genuinely freezing and uncomfortable. Callie couldn’t garden, so she’d tried to keep busy inside, reading, watching television and tidying the cottage. Because of its size, it hadn’t taken very long. And now everything was shining and immaculate, except for the bags of rubbish she’d left at the door, reluctant to venture out. But she couldn’t ignore it forever.
Layering up, she bundled the bags together and raced across the drive. Lifting the lid of the bin, she noticed empty boxes from microwave meals—at least a dozen. Cliff was living off these? They might be okay nutritionally, but he must get sick of them. She’d spotted him hobbling along the little garden path each day on his walks. He’d mostly ignored her, but had nodded politely yesterday afternoon and she’d smiled, waved, though she hadn’t gotten either back. But she hadn’t spoken to him either, hadn’t been sure what to say. Perhaps Cliff was just feeling awkward. He hadn’t asked for her to be here, invading his space.
She convinced all the bags to fit inside the bin—just—and was about to dash back to the warmth of the cottage when the sound of tyres on gravel had her turning to see an unfamiliar car drive past her on the way to the house. The small white hatchback pulled up right outside Cliff’s door, a large sign attached to the car announcing the community nurse had arrived. A tall, slender woman with a severe silver bun emerged and fought the wind to close the car door. ‘Hello, dear!’ she said cheerily.
Callie made her way across the drive. ‘Hi.’
‘My name’s Adelaide. You must be Callie. Paisley told me to expect to see you.’ Adelaide opened the rear door of the car and ducked her head, emerging with groceries.
‘Let me get some of those.’ Callie took two bags and followed Adelaide up the steps. The nurse didn’t knock, just let herself in, calling out, ‘Cliff!’
‘Upstairs,’ he snapped.
Callie went ahead and put the bags on the kitchen bench. Because they were frozen microwave meals, she began loading them into the freezer.
‘Thank you, Callie,’ Adelaide said, unpacking bread, milk and a couple of tins of Sustagen. ‘This isn’t strictly in the job description, but Paisley appreciates it—even if the lord of the manor up there doesn’t.’ She chuckled. ‘How are you settling in?’
‘Well, thanks.’ And she was pretty keen to get going in case the lord of the manor came down. ‘I might leave you to it.’
Adelaide paused in her unpacking and nodded. ‘I heard he wasn’t very nice to you when you arrived.’
‘It’s not an issue. He has a lot to deal with.’
‘We all do. That’s life, I’m afraid. Our actions always catch up with us in the end.’
Callie had no idea what Adelaide meant, but she smiled politely.
‘You have a lovely afternoon,’ Adelaide continued. ‘Stay warm. I’ll deal with Cliff.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It really is good that you’re here, Callie,’ Adelaide added as she was almost at the door. ‘About time things got moving. Sing out if you need anything.’
Got moving? If Adelaide was referring to getting Cliff out of the house and into care, Callie was leaving that right alone. Nothing was going to happen until Paisley got back. But she smiled anyway and went outside, dragging her coat more tightly around her as she dashed back to the cottage.
She read for a while, but was restless enough after an hour to wander around finding things to do that didn’t need to be done. Why couldn’t she settle? She went to the fridge, though she wasn’t hungry. Perhaps she could make something nice for dinner. So far she’d been existing on tinned soup and toasted sandwiches, but the fridge and freezer were full of good food, and Paisley had said the slow cooker in the cupboard worked. She should make a casserole, something rich and nutritious. She might even drop some over later to give Cliff a break from the packaged stuff. Assuming he’d want some.
A glimpse of someone in the garden outside the window caught her attention. Was that Cliff now? It was about the time he took his daily walk. But in this weather? She grimaced. Perhaps she should catch up with him, suggest her idea for dinner. It was silly to worry about approaching an old man, so she rugged up again, put a smile on her face and went out. She marched down the garden path, skirting the overgrown trees and shrubs and fighting to keep her hair away from her face, while expecting at any moment to run into him. But she couldn’t find him.
‘Cliff?’ she called.
Had she been mistaken? She could have sworn she’d seen him—someone. She went a bit further, just in case, but saw and heard nothing. ‘Cliff?’
Shivering, she blew into her hands to warm them, caught sight of something else out of the corner of her eye. A low branch in a nearby garden bed was swinging much more violently than those around it, as though someone had just let it go. Damn it, she wasn’t imagining that! If it wasn’t Cliff, who was it? Had a reporter found her? A photographer?
She ran in the direction of the branch with that one thought, angry that whoever they were, they were trespassing, about to make her life hell again. She was most of the way down to the river before it occurred to her how unlikely that scenario was. She pushed on anyway. The small clearing she found felt eerie and uninviting in the bad weather.
‘Hello?’ She took a cautious step around an old pine tree, but pulled up when her jacket snagged on the undergrowth surrounding it. She turned to untangle her sleeve from what seemed to be a wild rosebush, well overgrown and woven into the more innocent branches of an acacia. The movement of the clinging branches as she attempted to free herself revealed a small stone block with a badly tarnished plaque. It was difficult to read from where she stood, but she couldn’t go any further to make it clearer. How sad that someone had cared enough to place a memorial and no one had bothered to look after it.
The wind picked up, howling through the trees. For a moment the sun broke through the cloud, only to be lost again as she released her sleeve from the last thorn and stepped away. The river rippled madly with the gusty wind, and the trees bent and swayed noisily. What had felt so peaceful on her last visit was desolate and uninviting today. And the niggle of not quite being alone teased the hairs on the back of her neck. It was time to return.
She hurried up the trail to see a car parked outside the cottage. Wary, she kept her distance as a woman slipped out with a friendly grin and a ‘Hi!’
Late twenties, early thirties; Callie couldn’t be sure. Long dark hair, curious green eyes, jeans, boots, jacket. She didn’t dress like a reporter. But what would a reporter wear in this weather? Probably the same thing this woman was.
‘Can I help you?’
‘I’m Tess. I live out at Calico Mountain. I was talking to Paisley about you last weekend, thought I should come and say hello.’
‘Why?’ Paisley had said she’d dodged the questions, not answered them.
‘Because I wanted to. Paisley was choosing her words so carefully, I knew she had to have Caroline Johnson down here.’
‘Were you just out here on foot, sneaking around in the garden?’
What appeared to be genuine surprise lit Tess’s features. ‘No, of course not. Is someone bothering you?’
You, Callie thought bad-temperedly.
‘Look, Caroline—’
‘Callie.’
‘Huh?’
‘My name is Callie. I don’t go by Caroline.’
‘Callie?’ Tess studied her for a moment, nodded. ‘I think that suits you better. I just came out to say hi.’
Now what? Callie couldn’t stand there all day on the driveway and Tess wasn’t taking enough notice of the get
lost vibe she was sending out. Perhaps if she was nice, Tess would consider not telling everyone in creation where she was. She sighed.
‘Would you like to come in for a drink?’
The smile widened again. ‘That’d be great.’
Callie led Tess inside, her nerves on edge. If this didn’t work she’d have to leave. ‘Tea? Coffee?’
‘Coffee would be perfect. I’ve only had one today. I’m a bit of a caffeine addict.’
‘I only have instant.’
‘Not a problem.’ Instead of sitting at the table, Tess wandered over to the window that overlooked the river. ‘It’s lovely out here. I guess as far as hideaways go, you couldn’t pick much prettier. Of course, the weather could be better. It’s supposed to clear up tomorrow.’
‘I hope so.’ Callie set the kettle to boil, retrieved some mugs from the cupboard and took out the milk, considering her words carefully. ‘It is pretty. And quiet. Secluded. And I’d like to hang around for a while.’ She paused until Tess had turned back around, then aimed a hard look in her direction. ‘But pretty and quiet and secluded are no good to me if everyone knows I’m here.’
Tess’s expression turned sympathetic. ‘Understood. And I’m not going to say anything. But you should prepare yourself for people to find out. This isn’t like a big city. And you can’t stay cooped up in the cottage forever.’
‘Not forever. Just until it all blows over a bit.’
‘And you should know for the most part, people around here are nice, friendly. They’ll give you a fair go. It was a good place to come for that reason, too.’
Callie nodded slowly. ‘It’s more the idea of the mob that was after me back home finding out where I am that bothers me.’ The kettle clicked off so she poured in the water. ‘I was advised to lay low for a few months.’
‘Fair enough. Thanks.’ Tess took the coffee and sat at the table. ‘I can’t imagine it’s been easy.’
‘No. It hasn’t. But it’s done,’ Callie said, shutting the conversation down. ‘So, tell me more about you.’
‘I live out at Calico Mountain, which is a tourist retreat and working cattle property about half an hour from here. It borders Mt Field National Park. You know it?’
‘Paisley mentioned it. So you work there?’
‘With my brothers, Connor and Logan.’
‘Paisley said she spoke to Connor. She didn’t mention Logan.’
‘I only found out a little while ago he was my half-brother. Long story. If you ever want to hear about someone else’s newsworthy dramas, ask about what happened out there a couple of years back.’
Tess seemed genuine enough about that to stir Callie’s curiosity. ‘It would be nice to have a conversation with someone that didn’t revolve around me for a change,’ she admitted.
Tess’s gaze dropped to study her coffee. ‘I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve barged in. I’ll admit natural curiosity, but I also thought about you being alone out here, perhaps liking the idea of having someone you can call if you need anything.’
It was difficult to remain annoyed with Tess—she was too damn nice. ‘It could be. I’m not exactly used to spending so much time on my own.’
Tess’s smile brightened. ‘Come out and visit one day when you’ve got nothing to do. I’ll show you around and tell you all about it.’
‘That’s a kind offer.’
‘Is that code for no?’ Tess’s head tilted to the side as her smile became assessing. ‘You do look quite different with your hair short and brown. Stick on a hat and sunnies and I’m betting a lot of people won’t even recognise you out of context.’
Callie wasn’t sure she agreed but she smiled gratefully. ‘Regardless, I’m pretty sure heading out to a tourist retreat is asking for trouble. I’ll think about it.’
‘Good. Before long I reckon I’ll be desperate for an excuse to show you around, take a break. I have about a hundred plants to start putting in the ground in the next few days.’
‘Yourself?’
‘Oh, sure. Probably. We have a groundsman who was going to do it, but he did his back in yesterday, and if the plants sit around in their pots for too long where they’ve been unloaded I can’t imagine it will do them much good.’ Tess chewed on her lip. ‘I’ve just got to figure out where to put them.’
Callie couldn’t help sending Tess a quizzical look. ‘You have a hundred plants and you don’t know where they’re going?’
Tess looked at the ceiling. ‘We lost most of a stand of really old pines in a bad storm we had and pretty much everything that had been living under them died too. There was a big excavation to remove the trees at which time our brilliant groundsman—Bob—decided to reshape three acres of ground to continue the existing gardens right along the main drive to the stables to open everything up. Bob ordered all the plants, carved out all the garden beds and dropped in what he termed a few “decorative boulders”, then fell over one of them and completely wrecked himself. He’s out of action for the foreseeable future. Mum used to organise all the plantings, but she’s taken off with a friend to do some travelling, so I stupidly put my hand up and was told to place the plants however I thought fit. Like I was being given the good job.’ She pulled a face. ‘Like it would be fun.’
‘And it’s not?’ Callie guessed, trying not to laugh at Tess’s horrified expression.
‘It sounds like it should be, but I really don’t have the first idea. I want it to look like a masterpiece and I have a feeling it’s going to look more like a dog’s breakfast.’
Suspicion crept in. Had Paisley said something to the Athertons about Callie’s ideas to build a landscaping business? She really should stay out of it. It wasn’t her place to come up with a solution.
Hell. ‘If you consider the specific needs of each plant—direction, shade, light and water requirements—add in that you’ll want to layer them in terms of size and texture and pick your colours so that each plant complements the other, then consider balance and uniformity with the existing gardens, you’re halfway set up before you even have to think too much about it.’
At Tess’s blank stare, she added, ‘Aren’t you?’
‘How do you know all this?’
‘I thought Paisley must have told you. I owned a landscaping business before I got married. I was thinking about starting it back up down here.’
‘You—really?’ Tess asked with enough surprise to suggest she really hadn’t known.
Callie sipped her coffee, smiled. ‘Once I feel comfortable showing my face in public again.’
‘So that hat and sunnies I mentioned. I’ll provide them. And whatever rate you want to charge—within reason,’ Tess said with a smile. ‘Help me. Please.’
She sounded so desperately sincere, Callie felt a gurgle of laughter rise in her throat. ‘It’s not that difficult. We can sketch it out, I’ll give you an idea.’
It wasn’t as crazy as it seemed, Callie told herself as she tasted the casserole, decided it was as good as it was going to get, and turned off the slow cooker. Perhaps she shouldn’t have allowed Tess to convince her to take a look. Perhaps she’d been a bit rash, but the desperate plea for help had caught her off guard and she’d ended up enjoying Tess’s company. They’d sketched out a rough plan and that should have been enough. But Tess hadn’t been completely sure what all the plants were, which didn’t help, and so she’d agreed to drive out to have a look. Just a look. Anything further was only a maybe. If anything went wrong, if anyone so much as looked at her twice, Callie would bail. Just get in her car and leave.
As the sun faded outside, she noticed Cliff’s kitchen light come on in the main house. She stared down at the casserole, then back at the house. She sighed. Damn it, it wouldn’t hurt to try. She ladled half the casserole into a dish and set out across the drive.
She almost took it back again when, after several knocks on the front door, no one appeared. Then the thump, thump, thump of his walking stick as she walked away had her turning back around. Th
e door opened. Cliff was wrapped tightly in a blue dressing gown, a necklace with a grey stone decorated with strange symbols hanging around his neck. ‘What do you want?’
Her smile slipped at the edges, but she forced it back into place. ‘Hi, Mr Waldron. I made a casserole. I thought you might like some.’
His eyes narrowed, adding more creases to his heavily lined face. ‘Did you? Why would I? I can cook for myself.’
She thought about the microwave meal packaging in the bin and fought back a frown. ‘Of course, but I hate cooking for one and as you’re being kind enough to let me stay in the cottage, I’d like to share.’
‘Had nothing to do with that.’
‘Regardless, I appreciate it.’ She kept her smile plastered on, determined to win.
He looked the dish over. ‘Not poisoned, is it?’
‘What? No. Of course not.’ She stumbled over the words, genuinely shocked. ‘No.’
He studied the covered casserole for another full minute while she stood there, feeling awkward, holding it in front of her. ‘S’pose I may as well then.’
‘Would you like me to carry it in—put it on the bench?’
‘I got it.’ He took it, juggling the pot and his stick with difficulty.
The door closed in her face.
‘You’re welcome,’ she muttered. Then, pulling a face at the closed door, she went back to the solitude of the cottage.
CHAPTER
11
Callie awoke the next morning with a tune in her head she didn’t recognise and a vague recollection of pink. A pink what she couldn’t say, but she was pretty sure Paisley’s doll had been in there somewhere. And the memorial stone she’d found on her race down to the river yesterday. Just her mind jumbling together the events of the past week, no doubt. But she’d slept well and was looking forward, with a few nerves, to this morning. She got up with the intention of putting on coffee, was happy to see the weather had cleared. There was still a bit of wind, but the sky was blue, the clouds gone.