by Janet Gover
‘So, Willowbrook’s first wedding is over.’ Liz sounded tired more than anything else.
‘And how did it go?’
‘I’m not sure. Kayla is the expert. And her boss Pascale came up to help. I suppose it went all right. I can’t see Pascale letting it be anything else but perfect. Kayla too, for that matter. She seemed to be very good at whatever it is they actually do for these things.’
‘So, now that the first one has happened, how do you feel about it?’
When Liz finally spoke, her voice was hesitant and maybe a little afraid. ‘I don’t feel like it’s my home any more.’
His beautiful, brilliant, brave Lizzie had been brought to this? He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her tightly until all the pain went away. He knew some of the blame was his, but mostly it was because Lizzie had lost her way. He also knew that no one would be able to do anything to help her until she was ready to accept that help.
‘Lizzie—’
‘Please don’t call me that.’
‘All right. Liz, is this really what you want to do?’
‘Yes, it is.’ She bristled slightly and he got a flash of the girl he used to know. ‘This can save Willowbrook. At least, Kayla and Pascale think it can, and I have no other option. I can’t lose this place. I promised Dad—’ Her voice broke.
‘I know. You promised him you would never sell Willowbrook. But he had no right to ask that of you. You were just a teenager. No one has any right to expect a teenager to shoulder all the responsibilities you did.’
‘He had every right! What happened was my fault. Our fault, Mitch. I have to atone for that.’
He heard the sorrow in her voice. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But she wasn’t right, either. Yes, the two of them did hold some of the blame for what happened that day, but maybe Sam did too. They would never really know. Mitch had tried to tell Liz that fifteen years ago. She hadn’t listened to him then and she wouldn’t listen to him now, but he could still try to convince her to take her life back.
‘Tell me something, Liz. When did you last do something for yourself? Not for Willowbrook. Not because you promised your father. Not for Kayla. Just because you wanted to do it.’
He sat for a long time, waiting, then realised she would never give him an answer, even if she could.
When she spoke again, it was to turn his question on him.
‘And what about you, Mitch? Tell me something. You were gone for a long time. Why did you come back?’
‘Because this is where I belong. You pushed me away so often, I got angry. I went away. I found a new job. New friends. It was the only way to stop the hurt. And yes, I found new women. There was a lot of beer and there were a lot of women. The problem was, none of them was you.’
He turned to look at her but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. She kept her eyes firmly fixed on the water, which was now glinting in the light of the full moon above them.
‘Why did you buy the river flats and the old church? It was hard enough for me to have to sell that land. But when I realised it was you … Why, Mitch? Was it pity? Did you think I would forgive you? Forgive us?’
‘I bought it because this is where I want to be. It always has been and it always will be.’
‘I felt as if you had betrayed me by taking part of Willowbrook away.’
‘No, Liz. Never that. I was trying to stop it being taken from you by a stranger.’
She looked at him then.
She was so close. He reached a hand out to touch her cheek. His hand was toughened through years of hard work and burned dark by the sun. Her eyes had lines around them, but they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He leaned forward to kiss her and their lips touched. It was only the briefest moment, but it brought a flood of memories. The taste and the feel of her lips were as much a part of him as his own heartbeat.
‘No!’
She pushed his chest so hard he almost toppled off the tree into the water, and he thought he saw the shine of tears in her eyes.
‘I can’t do this, Mitch. I really can’t. Not again. The memories are too much. I can’t bear it.’
‘Your dad would hate to see you like this,’ Mitch said as something close to desperation filled him. ‘He’d want to see you happy. And he knew we were good together. He would want to see us—’
‘No!’ It sounded like the cry of a wounded animal. ‘Don’t you see? He didn’t want us to be together. Why do you think he was following us that day? He was trying to stop us. That’s why he’s dead. Why they’re both dead.’
‘No, Liz. You’re wrong. He knew we—’
‘He told me. They were the last words he ever said to me. I will never forget them.’
‘No. That can’t be right.’ Mitch felt as if the old log was about to topple into the creek. He gripped it so hard it felt like his fingers might tear through the weathered wood. ‘I mean, I didn’t ask him or anything. But I always assumed they were on their way to celebrate with us.’
But he looked again at her face and knew she wasn’t lying. The pain of that day rose out of his memory to wrap itself around his heart. He was almost gasping for breath as he stood. He didn’t look where he was going, but his feet knew the way as they carried him off the log and away from the lonely figure sitting in the deepening shadows above the creek.
CHAPTER
43
The young couple are standing on the steps of the church as the police car pulls up. The officer turns the engine off and takes a deep breath. Even if dispatch hadn’t told him, he would know what they are here to do. It is written in every line of their bodies and the happiness surrounds them like a glow.
There are times he really hates his job, and this is one of them.
He picks up his hat from the seat beside him and gets out of the car. The couple have seen him now. They hold hands tightly as they watch him approach. He knows what they’re thinking. They expect him to interfere with their plans, to try to stop them. The boy, for he is little more than a boy in the officer’s eyes, steps slightly in front of his girl, instinctively trying to protect her. The officer admires the youth for trying, but he can’t protect her from what is coming. No one can.
The priest appears in the doorway behind them. He and the officer share a look. It is the kind of look professionals share when they know what lies ahead. Someone has called him already.
‘What’s going on?’ the boy asks.
The officer can see now they both are teenagers. For years he’s hardened his heart, ready for moments like this, but when they come, nothing makes them easier.
‘I’m looking for Elizabeth Lawson?’
The girl takes half a step forward. ‘That’s me.’ Her tone is defensive.
The officer makes sure his voice is unemotional. Official.
‘I’m very sorry, Miss Lawson, but I have bad news for you. There has been an accident. Your parents and your sister—’
‘What? Where? Are they all right?’ Lizzie glances up at Mitch as if looking for courage. Then she looks at the officer. Perhaps she reads something in his look, because her face begins to crumple.
‘Their car ran off the road at Owens Gap a little over an hour ago. We’ve been looking for you.’
‘We were at the café having breakfast,’ Mitch says in a tone that shows he knows such things are unimportant right now.
The officer has rehearsed the next words. ‘Your sister is in an ambulance on her way to Tamworth Hospital. She has head injuries but they’re not too serious. The Westpac rescue helicopter is taking your father to Newcastle. His injuries are severe. He needs the facilities at the bigger hospital there.’
‘No!’ Tears are streaming down Lizzie’s face now. Mitch puts his arms around her. Without his support, Lizzie would have fallen to the ground. ‘No. It can’t—’ Lizzie suddenly stops speaking.
The officer knows what is coming next.
‘My mother?’ The words are almost a whisper.
‘I am so sorry. She
was trapped in the car. They are still trying to free her.’
‘How badly hurt is she?’ This time Mitch asks. Lizzie has her hands over her mouth and is unable to speak.
‘I’m sorry. She was dead when the ambulance arrived.’
The sound that escapes Lizzie is like the cry of a wounded animal. Her knees give way and Mitch holds her as she sinks to the wooden steps.
‘Lizzie. I’m here,’ he says as she sobs in his arms. ‘I’m here.’
The priest steps forward as if to offer comfort, but Mitch waves him away. He holds Lizzie while she cries.
After a few minutes, he looks up at the officer.
‘Lizzie needs to get to the hospital to see her father.’
‘Of course. Can you take her, or do you need help?’
‘I’ll take her,’ Mitch says in a voice strong beyond his years. ‘Lizzie. Do you want to go to your father?’
Numbly, Lizzie nods.
‘Come on.’ Mitch helps her to her feet.
Lizzie reaches somewhere deep inside herself and finds the power to speak. ‘But what about Kayla? She’s in a different hospital.’
‘That’s right,’ says the officer. ‘She’s getting good care. There is a female officer with her. Her injuries are not life threatening.’
They understand what the officer is not saying.
‘Can you get in touch with my parents?’ Mitch says. ‘They know Kayla. My little sister is her best friend. They can go to the hospital to be with Kayla while we go to Newcastle.’
‘I will.’
‘Mitch. Please. Take me to Dad.’
‘Come on.’ Mitch puts his arms around her shoulders and guides her to his car. A few moments later, the pair drive away.
The priest and the officer watch them go.
‘That poor child,’ says the priest.
CHAPTER
44
Her job was finished. Or at least the first phase was finished.
Kayla ran her fingers along the top of the kitchen table; the table she had eaten at every day for so many years. The refurbished kitchen looked modern and clean and practical—because it was. It was perfect for everyday use, but at the same time the commercial warmers and coolers that had been installed in an unused pantry were ready for the next wedding. It was just the right balance of both purposes.
‘What do you think, Mum?’ The words are barely a whisper. ‘I think we’d have enjoyed cooking here together. Well, I guess Lachie will get to use it more than me. But he’ll love it.’
But she wasn’t so sure he would. The kitchen was great, but Lachie wasn’t a country boy. She hadn’t even been able to get him to visit her up here. And strangely enough, she hadn’t missed him at all. He wouldn’t really fit in at Willowbrook anyway. Well, she was about to head back to Sydney. She’d see him soon.
She walked through to the homestead’s entrance hall. The staircase looked wonderful. She’d seen Ken’s photos of the Japanese couples on those stairs, and it was exactly as she’d imagined it. She opened the doors into the bride’s room. It was bright and pretty and the realisation of every little girl’s bridal dreams. The groom’s room across the hall was a masculine haven. When she walked out onto the veranda, the heritage green paint blended beautifully into the colours of the lawn and the gum tress, with the native flowers growing in the renewed garden beds giving a splash of brightness. And the fountain looked lovely.
This was how Willowbrook was supposed to look. It was all perfect, just as she had imagined it when she started this project all those weeks ago. And there was more she could do. Although Willowbrook’s church was out of her reach, she had plans to build a permanent wedding pavilion, an all-weather place for ceremonies to be held. It would be nice to add an antique touch too—perhaps an old Cobb & Co coach if she could find one. She suddenly thought of old wine barrels. Why hadn’t she considered that before? They would add the flavour of the Hunter Valley in more ways than one. But that would have to wait. For now, she was done and it was time to go home to Sydney, at least until the next Willowbrook wedding.
Kayla picked up the overnight bag that she’d left by the entrance and closed the door behind her. She carried it to her car and looked at the stables. Liz had been gone when she woke that morning. Probably out somewhere training a horse on the hills and flats of Willowbrook. She knew Kayla was leaving, but Liz had never been one for long goodbyes. Kayla got into the car and started the engine. As she watched Willowbrook recede in the rear-view mirror, she wasn’t sure when she would be back, and felt an unexpected twinge of sadness.
A little over three hours later she pulled her car into her designated spot outside the Elite Weddings office. Leaving her travel bag, she picked up her laptop and headed inside. She had work to do.
‘Hi, Pascale.’
‘Welcome back.’ Pascale raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow.
‘What?’ Kayla dropped her things on her desk.
‘This is a new look for you.’
Kayla looked down at herself. She was wearing a short-sleeved shirt tucked into cream chinos. Her boots were new and comfortable, but bore little resemblance to the high-heeled fashion statements that normally adorned her feet. And it occurred to her she wasn’t wearing make-up. Apart from the day of the wedding, she couldn’t remember when she last sat in front of a mirror perfecting her appearance. She’d been too busy fixing Willowbrook.
‘Sorry. I came straight in after the drive down. We don’t have any meetings today, do we?’
‘No. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I was just thinking you’re a lot more relaxed since you’ve been spending time back home.’
‘It’s not really my home any more. My home is here in Sydney.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. I’m also sure I need coffee. You want one?’
As she made the coffee, Kayla thought about Pascale’s words. She thought about them even more when she checked her email. Top of her inbox was a message from Lachie.
Hi babe.
It’s been a while. I know you’ve been busy but I miss you. When can we get together? You can wash off all that country dust and let me take you somewhere nice for dinner … or better still, let me wash it off and we can stay home and I’ll cook you dinner.
It couldn’t be that long. She’d seen Lachie … she checked her diary. Three weeks ago. That was a long time. She replied, proposing dinner and whatever bathing Lachie liked, but not until Friday night. She’d been away so much she had a mountain of work to catch up on and she needed to get herself and her flat in order. But even as she hit the send button, it occurred to her that if she hadn’t seen her boyfriend for so long, she should want to see him tonight. Maybe Pascale was right. Maybe she was changing.
She shook her head. There was no time to think about that now. She scrolled through her emails. There was never a quiet time in the bridal business. Love happened. So did unexpected babies. There were a couple of rush weddings needing her attention. But first she needed to finalise the account for the Japanese tour weddings. She wanted to get Liz’s share of the profit to her as soon as possible not just because her sister needed it, but because when she saw some actual money, Liz might feel better about the decision she had been forced to make.
Kayla stopped at an email Pascale had forwarded to her with a single word in the subject line: Willowbrook? Kayla scanned it.
Another couple were seeking a rural setting for their ceremony. Yes, this would be perfect for Willowbrook. If she went up there this week, she might have time to find some old wine barrels to decorate the garden. Then she remembered—she had a date with Lachie. And there was a wedding in Sydney this weekend as well.
She ignored the twinge of disappointment. She had plenty of time to get up to Willowbrook and look for barrels. Her life was here in Sydney. Her work was here, as was Lachie. Willowbrook was fine for a visit but it wasn’t her home any more.
Was it?
CHAPTER
45
>
Liz reached into the fridge and pulled out a can of beer. It wasn’t exactly Champagne, but that didn’t matter. She pulled the tab and raised the can to her mouth to suck at the overflowing foam. Turning to the white sheet of paper lying in the middle of the kitchen table she raised the can in salute before taking a long drink. For once, the letter from the bank was not a cause for despair. Signed by the same Mr Richard Walker who had caused her so much distress after his last visit, the letter congratulated her on making headway on her loan repayments, and wished her continued success in her new business venture. Some payments had been made by Pascale as part of their business deal, but Liz was proud to note that part of the money had come from her account.
She wasn’t out of trouble yet, but the plan might be working.
Liz took the letter and her beer and headed for her office. As she passed through the newly renovated rooms and up the staircase, she experienced a deep sense of pleasure. Not only was her bank statement looking better, so too was the home she loved. Not that the credit was hers. This was all Kayla’s work. She’d expected to resent the fact that Kayla was succeeding where she had failed, but she didn’t. In her own way, Kayla worked as hard as Liz and if Willowbrook benefited from that, Liz would be grateful. Liz wished her sister was here to celebrate with her. Maybe tomorrow morning she might sleep late for once, then ring Kayla to tell her the good news and thank her. She deserved that.
A strident sound woke Liz from a deep slumber. She leaped out of bed. Dragging on her clothes, she glanced at the clock by her bed. Three o’clock. This could be a false alarm, but she didn’t think so. The darkest hours were the best time for a foal to enter the world.
She made her way very quietly to the foaling box. In the dim glow of the night lights, Liz could see that the mare was lying down. That’s what had triggered the alarm on her foaling collar. She was sweating lightly. As Liz watched, the mare lifted her head and started to roll, as if trying to get to her feet. She sat for a moment, breathing deeply, then rolled back on her side. Liz leaned on the door to the box. It wouldn’t be long. The mare was one of her best and an old hand at this. She’d birthed eight live foals, the youngest of which was even now roaming the yearling paddock growing more and more like his sire every day. Unless something went wrong, she was best left just to get on with it.