On either side white post-and-rail fences divided the fields, mostly empty and dried brown under the relentless sun. Only a couple of horses stood nose to tail in the shade, flicking their tails lazily at flies. Loose boxes and stalls were in the long shed with a peaked roofline, which stood a hundred or so metres past the house in the cluster of studwork buildings. Hugh had spent a lot of money on the place when he bought it, but his interest in being a country squire had waned quickly and now he and her mother only used it occasionally.
A silver sedan was parked by the large building housing the unused indoor ring. and Hugh, along with a man she didn’t recognise, was standing outside the open door of the office discussing something. Both wore riding boots, jeans and short-sleeved blue shirts and new Akubras. Hugh looked as country as a politician on the campaign trail shaking hands with farmers for their votes.
He walked forward and kissed her on both cheeks, doing his public display of stepfatherly affection. ‘Hello there, lovely girl. You’re looking beautiful as ever.’
‘Thanks.’
Hugh turned to the other man and said, ‘This is my stepdaughter, Krista. Krista this is Mark. He’s brought a mare here for servicing. Lovely creature.’
The man offered his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
The words were polite but the grip was a little too firm and held a fraction too long, like the appraisal from two dark brown, small eyes. The man’s features were all drawn together in the middle of his face like some weird puppet. His accent had a hint of Irish.
A client? A business associate of some sort, no doubt, but Hugh wouldn’t bother explaining and she didn’t want to know.
Krista nodded in return then said to Hugh. ‘I need to talk to you.’
‘Yes. Excuse us a moment please, Mark. Perhaps you would wait in the office there? Help yourself to a cold drink from the fridge.’
Mark nodded and strolled through the open door.
‘What the hell is going on with Angus and that horse he was towing?’ she asked as soon as he was out of earshot. ‘He was passing a horse called Arch Rival off as Calypso.’
Hugh’s jovial expression vanished and the familiar scowl appeared. ‘What are you saying?’
‘You tell me. I don’t know what he’s up to but he can damn well leave me and my horse out of it.’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Calypso is right there in a stall. Rod brought her in because we knew you were coming.’
‘I know Calypso’s here, it’s the other one that isn’t. The one called Arch Rival whose white foot he painted over.’
‘How do you know?’ He had that condescending tone in his voice, the one where he dismissed anything she said as the ranting of a hysterical, probably premenstrual woman.
‘I was there when the vet found out. How stupid did that make me look? I’d told him that it was my horse.’
‘Where is Arch Rival now?’
‘At the vet.’
‘Which vet?’
‘Oliver Johnson at Taylor’s Bend. I had to walk her there after the crash because there was no-one here to come and get her. You were out and Angus had wrecked the float.’
‘I know nothing about any of this.’ Of course he didn’t. He’d make it his business not to.
‘Did you know Angus is in hospital in Wagga?’
‘Yes. Rod told me as he was leaving to see him. He has a cracked rib. He’ll be all right. Rod will probably bring him home. Rod said he’d had a car accident. I assumed in his own car.’
‘The Range Rover and the float are at the local garage. The police called the tow truck.’
Hugh’s lips tightened in anger as she knew they would when he discovered the local police were involved.
‘What’s Angus been doing, Hugh?’
‘Nothing you need to bother about. I’ll take care of it.’ Another dismissal. Silly woman. Did he know or was he pretending? It wouldn’t be the first time he covered up one of his son’s indiscretions.
‘But he was passing that horse off as mine.’
‘Calypso is fine. Don’t worry about it, I said. Go in and see your mother. Help her with the party.’
‘I want to see my horse first.’ Krista stepped around his solid bulk and into the wide doorway leading to the rows of stalls and loose boxes. Only three heads looked over the half doors as she walked, flicking their ears and watching her progress. Two would be just back from the ride Hugh and Mark had taken.
Calypso was in the third box on the right. Now she saw her with a more knowledgeable and critical eye, her coat was a slightly different colour to the impostor’s—a shade lighter, more coppery. They were very similar in other respects and to someone who didn’t know either horse well, or at least only from a distance, they’d be indistinguishable. Someone like her.
She rubbed the smooth nose but the horse tossed her head up and down, making Krista withdraw her hand and step back as she whirled away and circled the small enclosure, clearly annoyed at being locked up. Arch Rival was much quieter and enjoyed being patted and talked to.
A young female stablehand walking by with a bucket full of horse brushes looked at her curiously and paused.
‘Hello. Isn’t she beautiful? Her name’s Calypso Secret.’ About seventeen or eighteen, enthusiastic, wide toothy smile, with dark blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.
‘I know. I own her.’
‘Sorry, you must be the boss’s daughter.’
‘Stepdaughter but yes.’ Something about this girl’s friendliness made her say. ‘I’m Krista Laatonen. Are you local?’
‘Yes, my dad has an orchard on the Bindubi Road. I grew up there but I really wanted to work with horses.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Sandy.’
‘Do you think Calypso would be happier outside? She doesn’t seem to like being locked up.’
‘They all come in at night but the boss had her brought in early because you were coming. Will you want to go for a ride this evening?’
‘No, I don’t ride.’
‘Oh.’ A slight frown crossed the smooth brow as if to say Why own a horse you don’t ride?
Krista didn’t have to explain herself to a teenage employee.
‘Do you know anything about Arch Rival?’ she asked.
‘Archie? She’s a gorgeous girl. She’s only been here a month. Mr Littlejohn Jr took her somewhere but he had an accident. I guess you already know that. I hope Archie is okay. No-one has said.’
Krista nodded. ‘I walked her to the vet. She’s fine, just a few scrapes. Do you know why she was taken out, or where?’
‘No. I only come here once a week or when Rod calls me in.’
‘Do you know the local vet?’
‘Sure, everyone knows Ollie. I work there at weekends and three weekdays. He’s the most eligible bachelor in town now since Rupe got married. Rupe’s the cop,’ she added.
‘I met him. Both of them.’
‘So you know what I mean.’ She grinned, expecting some sort of acknowledgement of Oliver’s attractions, then added, ‘He’s too old for me, unfortunately. Not that he’s interested in anyone as far as we can tell.’
Krista gave a vague smile. How old was he? Mid-thirties at a guess. Way too old for a teenager. Who was ‘we’? The women of Taylor’s Bend? Why wasn’t he interested in any of them?
‘I really like your hairstyle.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’d love to have something like that but I’d have to go to Wagga to get it done.’
‘Isn’t there a hairdresser in Taylor’s Bend?’
‘Yes, but Edie’s not exactly up with the latest fashions. She’s been here forever and does blue rinses and short back and sides mainly.’
‘If you take in a photo she could probably have a go.’
‘Of you?’ The eyes widened with excitement.
‘No, from a magazine.’ Had she sounded too shocked at being asked to be a model? It was hardly surprising that a
tiny place like this wouldn’t have a decent salon and hairdresser. They were lucky to have one at all. That vet cut his own hair by the look of it.
‘You must be here for the party.’
‘I am and I’d better go up to the house and see my mother. Thanks, Sandy.’
The silver car had gone when she emerged from the stables, which meant Mark wasn’t staying, thank goodness.
When Krista opened the front door of the large two-storey house with the wide porch and pillars Hugh had added that always made her think of Gone with the Wind, she was greeted by yapping and the clatter of nails on marble. Her mother’s brown and white King Charles Spaniel, Lola, dashed across the foyer and proceeded to try to climb up her legs.
She bent to pat the silky head and was licked profusely in welcome. ‘Where’s Mama, Lola?’
Lola scurried away with Krista following, dress bag in one hand, dragging her suitcase behind her, and revelling in the cool air on her overheated skin. Where were the staff?
Her mother’s strident voice with the accent that grew stronger the more annoyed she was, emanated from the living room, alternating with the deeper tones of Hugh. Judging by the strength of the Finnish component she was very cross. Lola yapped along with the argument.
Krista stopped in the doorway waiting for a gap in the row, but her mother turned and immediately strode across for a perfunctory kiss. ‘Hello Krista, where have you been? I thought you were on your way here an hour ago. You smell dreadful. Like a horse yard.’
‘I had to deal with Angus’s horse and the vet, you know that.’
One elegantly manicured hand waved dismissively. ‘That’s not your problem, as I’ve been telling Hugh. You are here to help me with this monstrous event that your stepfather insists on having, not me. I’d be just as happy with scrambled eggs on toast and a glass of champagne at home in Sydney. Lola, shush!’
‘You agreed to it,’ said Hugh. ‘Don’t be so hysterical.’ He turned away to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whisky. Lola, chastened, curled up on the couch.
‘That’s right, have a drink and leave all the work to me.’
‘What work? You don’t have to do anything except issue instructions to the staff.’
‘You don’t have one idea how much planning goes into your extravaganzas. Especially trying to organise everything in this back-of-the-sticks town.’
‘Our extravaganzas,’ he corrected. ‘Gustav is doing the catering and everything is flying in with him early on Saturday morning, I told you that.’
Krista backed out and escaped. Lola scampered after her. The bickering didn’t miss a beat.
Brenda, her mother’s PA and all-round organiser, came along the corridor from the kitchen as she reached the foot of the stairs.
‘Hello, Krista. How nice to see you again.’ Tall and gaunt with a thin angular face under a square-cut bob, Brenda was efficiency personified. Nothing ruffled her, which was saying something because she’d been in her mother’s employ for the eight years since her husband died unexpectedly and she decided to fill the gaping hole in her life with a live-in job. Her mother didn’t realise, but she wouldn’t cope without Brenda.
‘Hi, Brenda. Am I in the usual room?’
‘Yes. Let me help with your luggage.’
‘Thanks.’ Krista handed her the dress bag, hoisted the suitcase and started up the stairs.
‘You look as though you need a nice long bath.’ Brenda and Lola came up behind her, the dog panting and resting on the landing between flights.
‘Mama told me I smell like a horse yard.’
‘You do have an agricultural whiff to you. L’Air des Stables?’ Brenda smiled. ‘I hear you had some excitement on the way.’
Krista reached the first floor and put her suitcase down, flexing her fingers. ‘Angus had an accident.’
‘Yes, but he’s all right.’ Brenda strode along the landing to the end bedroom. She flung the door open and went in.
‘How many people are coming to this party?’
‘It’s not big. Only about fifty but Viivi’s getting into her usual tizz.’
Fifty people to smile at and make small talk with. Fifty people, most of whom she didn’t know and the remainder, wished she didn’t know. Powerful men and their wives, some equally powerful; most, glamorous extensions of their husbands.
‘Where are they all staying?’
‘Hugh’s brothers and sister and their spouses are here and the rest are at the Mountain Retreat Resort.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘Up in the mountains. Not far, really. Very exclusive. They’ll helicopter in and out or drive.’
Krista kicked her sandals off, dumped her jacket and slumped into one of the leather easy chairs by the window. Lola sat by her feet looking up hopefully until Krista stroked her head. ‘Ugh. I don’t know why I bothered coming.’
‘Viivi wants you here.’
‘Not a good look if the doting daughter doesn’t turn up, you mean?’
Brenda unzipped the dress bag and extracted the silver evening dress. ‘This is lovely.’ She hung it carefully in the wardrobe and took out the pale blue silk dress. ‘What’s the matter, Krista? Something’s wrong, isn’t it? And it’s not about that horse.’
How much did Brenda already know? Her networking skills were second-to-none so there was no use trying to hide the truth from her. Charles Petrovic and Irene, his wife, were on the guest list so the situation would be obvious soon enough anyway.
‘I got the sack.’
‘When?’ She sat opposite, all her attention focused on Krista, drawing out the information as she always did.
‘When Charles found someone younger and prettier and more … amenable, to be his personal assistant. Friday was my last day.’
‘The man’s a slug.’
‘I know but I thought he was happy with my work. I thought I was doing a good job.’
‘I’m sure you were but that would have nothing to do with it. What did he say?’
‘He said he was sorry but it wasn’t working out and that he’d pay me three month’s severance but I should leave immediately. I’ve only been there a few months.’
‘Are you sure it was …’ Brenda stood up. ‘Never mind. You’re better off out of it. You’ll find something else.’
‘I’m not sure … I don’t think I want to do PA work anymore but that’s all I’ve ever done and they weren’t jobs I earned. I was hired for my looks and my connections. Anyone could do what I did. The other staff knew it and I always felt like an impostor, as though I shouldn’t be there.’
That’s how that vet made her feel, too. Like an impostor who was out of her depth.
Brenda sat down again. ‘Krista, you could do anything you want.’
‘That’s the trouble, I don’t know what I want. Mama got my first job for me with Ernest Wise for exactly that reason. She thought it would keep me occupied and out of trouble until someone married me. He was a real gentleman and I loved working for him but he was doing Mama a favour. He gave me the easy things to do like booking hotels and restaurants for him and buying gifts for his wife.’
‘I remember. He truly was an old-school gentleman. His wife was lovely too.’
‘I haven’t met anyone like him since and I’ve had three positions in three years. Men are creeps.’
‘Not all of them.’
‘I must be moving in the wrong circles.’
‘I’ll run the bath for you.’ Brenda disappeared into the ensuite. When she came out, she said, ‘You need to think about what it is you really want to do, what interests you most, and go for it. Nothing says you can’t study, do something at university.’
Krista lay in the scented water turning Brenda’s words over in her head. Not all men are creeps. She knew Brenda was right and her own statement wasn’t really true. But where were the good ones? What is it you really want to do? Find it and go for it. Study for a degree. In what? What university would accept her? She’d barely scrap
ed through high school. What did she want to do and what was she actually capable of doing?
Nothing. Her mind came up blank.
But she didn’t need to work. She had money. She didn’t need to do anything. Maybe Mama was right. She should be looking for someone to marry instead of being serially groped in an office by the boss.
She extended her leg and studied the damage to her toe. He’d been kind, the vet. He had nice eyes, an appealing, calm manner and despite his obvious dislike of her, he was polite and he had given her a ride back to her car.
He wasn’t a creep. He just didn’t like her.
Chapter 3
Dinner was a study in politeness of a completely different kind to Oliver the vet’s. This politeness was of the quality only a married couple deeply at odds could generate. The simmering tension between Hugh and Viivi had become familiar over the years but now held a new element of real dislike. If Brenda hadn’t been at the table to keep up a flow of innocuous conversation, Krista would have made a run for her car and headed for Melbourne.
As dessert was being cleared away, Angus and Rod appeared in the dining room doorway, Angus sporting a sling and a pained expression, crying out for sympathy he was not going to get from anyone in the room. He really was a spoiled brat.
Brenda rose. ‘I’ll get them to bring dinner for you. Sit down.’
‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Rod to the room in general while Angus made a show of manoeuvring himself onto a chair with winces and grunts of agony.
Hugh glared at him. ‘So?’
‘So what?’ Angus poured himself a glass of wine.
‘Can we not do this at the dinner table?’ asked Viivi in her long-suffering voice.
Hugh shot her a black look but didn’t pursue the attack.
‘You have to pay the vet, Angus,’ said Krista.
‘I can’t deal with that right now,’ he snapped.
‘And the tow truck driver and the garage where your car and the float are.’ Krista drank some water to avoid looking at the odious man. How could she possibly call this person a brother of any description?
‘I’ll deal with it, for Christ’s sake. As usual, you have no idea about anything.’
Where There Is Smoke Page 4