Where There Is Smoke

by Elisabeth Rose

  ‘No. Where is my phone? And I had a small purse with me with my keys in it.’

  ‘We haven’t found either,’ said Rupe. He turned to Oliver. ‘Is Angus still at her apartment?’

  ‘I think so. Are you thinking he should change the locks?’

  Rupe nodded. ‘No telling who has those keys. Get him to organise it.’

  ‘He won’t care,’ said Krista. ‘He only cares about himself. And he was supposed to have posted my keys back to me. The liar. This is all his fault. All of it.’

  ‘He came through though. Maybe he’s not so bad. He was upset when I rang him last night and told him what had happened to you.’

  She didn’t reply.

  ‘It’ll be difficult to pin this on Stefan Moran,’ said Rupe. ‘He’ll have made sure there’s no link to him.’

  ‘What about this?’ Krista touched her bandaged cheek. ‘He said “the boss wants to give you something to remember him by”. Then he … he …’ An image of the blade glinting in the light from the setting sun. She couldn’t look away. Hypnotised.

  Oliver squeezed her hand.

  ‘We’ll do our best to nail him. See you later, Ollie,’ said Rupe. ‘Thank you, Krista.’ He headed for the door.

  ‘Thank you. Rupe?’

  He turned. ‘Will you please tell your wife … Abbie… that I really mean to help with the show and I’m sorry I haven’t yet.’

  ‘I will, but don’t worry about it. Things got messed around with the fires anyway.’

  When he’d gone, Krista said, ‘Oliver, how bad is this?’ Her fingers hovered over the bandage, shaking, her eyes wide.

  He rubbed his lips together. ‘There was a lot of blood when I found you and it was dark. It was hard to tell. Faces bleed a lot.’

  ‘But what did the doctor say?’

  ‘He had to put in stiches but apart from that … I don’t know.’

  ‘Will I be scarred?’ Her eyes bored into him, relentlessly seeking answers. Seeking the truth.

  ‘I don’t know. He said he’d do his best to prevent it.’ His actual word had been ‘minimise’.

  ‘Oliver, I can’t have a scar. When’s the doctor coming? What sort of hospital is this? I should go to Melbourne and find a specialist. A plastic surgeon.’

  ‘The doctors here are very good. If there is a scar it won’t be very noticeable,’ said Oliver.

  ‘But it’ll be ugly. I’ll be ugly,’ she wailed.

  He smiled, shaking his head. ‘You’ll never be ugly.’ He wanted to add ‘not to me’ but knew that wasn’t enough, not for her and definitely not at this moment.

  ‘I’ll be scarred.’ She turned her face away, as he’d suspected, unconvinced.

  The nurse came in and frowned at Oliver before fussing over Krista. ‘The doctor will be in to see you soon. Are you hungry?’

  ‘Thirsty, but my face is sore.’

  ‘You’re not due for your next dose of painkillers yet. Is the pain bad?’

  ‘Not unbearable.’

  ‘Let me know if it gets too much.’ The nurse held a mug with a straw for her to take slow sips, wincing.

  ‘Thank you.’

  The nurse went out.

  ‘Does Mama know?’ asked Krista.

  ‘Hugh does, he said he’d contact her.’

  ‘What did he say about it?’

  ‘He’s furious.’

  ‘He said he’d take care of Moran,’ she said.

  ‘That’s what I said to him. Neither of them care about anything other than their own gigantic egos.’

  The doctor came in a few minutes later, grey-haired and stern-faced. He studied Krista’s details and turned to Oliver. ‘Are you a relative?’

  ‘No. Should I leave?’

  ‘I want him to stay,’ said Krista.

  ‘I’m Glen McInnis, head of surgery. I treated you last night. You were lucky I was still here. These wounds are best treated as soon as possible. Half an hour later and I would have been at a dinner.’ He smiled benignly. ‘Lucky for me as well as you, Krista. I wasn’t looking forward to it.’

  Not waiting for a reply, he deftly uncovered Krista’s wound and, adjusting his glasses, peered at his work. To Oliver’s eye it looked as good as could be expected. A seven- or eight-centimetre line running from below her left eye and curving to finish under the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Hmmm,’ McInnis said. ‘We’re also lucky the knife was sharp.’

  ‘Are we?’ Krista asked weakly but Oliver knew what he meant.

  ‘Nice clean cut,’ said McInnis. ‘Much messier if it’s a jagged wound.’

  ‘Will I have a scar?’

  ‘I’m afraid so, but it will be a very thin line and will fade as time goes by. You’ll be able to conceal it with make-up. He made quite a long, controlled incision, as if he wanted it to mark your face rather than cut you through anger.’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t given all the details. Domestic?’

  ‘No. There were two men involved. It was an abduction and they were making a statement,’ said Oliver.

  ‘I see. Well, Krista, you’ll need to rest for the next few days and take painkillers as you need. Your GP can monitor the healing so see him in a day or two, but if you are at all concerned, by all means make an appointment to see me. We’ve got you on antibiotics so make sure you finish the course when you go home.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘When is she able to go home?’ asked Oliver.

  ‘Given the circumstances you’ve just outlined I think it will do you good, Krista, to stay with us for another night in order to rest properly and to make sure there’s no developing infection. There shouldn’t be. I’ll ask the social worker to have a chat with you this morning.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’ve had a traumatic experience. It helps to talk about it. You may not want to just yet but these things can linger on and cause trouble. She can give you some information to follow up.’

  He bestowed another of his benign smiles on her and left.

  ‘I want to leave now,’ she said with a grim edge to her voice.

  Oliver said calmly, ‘He’s right. You need to stay where you are and give your body a chance to recover.’

  ‘Can’t I do that at The Grange?’

  ‘You’ll be well looked after here and Amy won’t need to be worried about you.’

  That comment must have hit home because she nodded.

  ‘Would you do me a favour, please?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Buy me another phone?’

  He smiled. ‘As long as you promise not to lose it. You’ve already gone through two in a week.’

  That produced the lopsided little smile again but it didn’t last long.

  ***

  The nurse removed the bandage that evening.

  ‘No need for this,’ she said. ‘As doctor said, the stitches will come out next week. You need to keep your head up so as not to put strain on them.’

  In the bathroom mirror, Krista had her first look at the wound and had to clutch the basin for support as her body gave way. A horrifying, red, swollen lumpy suture line, held together with roughly tied black stitches, split her left cheek in two. How could they say it was looking good? It was nightmarish. She looked like Frankenstein’s monster. How could she possibly let anyone see her?

  With her new phone, Krista had called Amy and asked if she could possibly come to collect her the next day. That was before she’d seen her disfigurement. She wasn’t going to be a burden, she didn’t need looking after but she did need assistance to get home. A taxi would involve waiting and talking to the driver and it was a long way to The Grange. She couldn’t possibly let Oliver see her like this.

  ‘What time shall I come?’ Amy asked immediately.

  ‘They said about twelve.’

  ‘Do you need anything?’

  ‘Could you bring me some dark glasses, please? I have clothes. Oliver brought my suitcase in,
the one I left at his place.’

  He’d brought in the new phone, along with a new toothbrush and toothpaste, and offered to return for the pick-up but she declined even before the bandage came off. If he was offended he didn’t say, but after he left she heard him talking to the nurse outside in the corridor. They moved away so she couldn’t hear what was said but whatever it was it would be a well-meaning discussion about how to deal with the traumatised invalid during her recovery.

  The full implications of her wound became clearer and clearer in her mind. She was no longer a beautiful woman who turned heads wherever she went. People would look but their gaze would flick away quickly. The bruises she’d sustained after the other attack were just a warm-up for this. This was a life-long blemish.

  Oliver’s kindness and sympathetic expression would become suffocating. He wouldn’t understand that she didn’t want him to see her ugliness, the raw red wound on her face marked with a row of stitches like black markers. He’d say it didn’t matter but it would matter. Her beauty had attracted him from the start, the way it did every man she met, but now she had nothing. She couldn’t even bear to look at herself in the mirror.

  Dr McInnis and the nurses were delighted by their work. He’d proclaimed himself well satisfied with the way it was shaping up and went away smiling. The social worker had come along and chatted and given her some pamphlets with phone numbers to call if she needed support later. She didn’t. She wanted them all to go away.

  It was a good thing she’d said goodbye to Melbourne, she wouldn’t ever go back. She’d hide in her room at The Grange with her ruined face.

  In the middle of the second night she woke with a start, sweating and trembling, shocked awake by a dark shadowy figure with a long shiny blade, bigger than the real knife, more like a butcher’s chopping blade. The dim light from the corridor cast a reassuring glow but she was afraid to close her eyes, and kept them fixed on the light until sleep came again.

  Amy arrived with the dark glasses and a smile, but she wasn’t overcome with awkward sympathy. She looked but she didn’t stare. She asked how she was feeling, gave Krista a brisk hug, picked up her bag and took her to the car.

  ‘How’s Rod?’ Krista asked when they were on the road out of town and her tense muscles finally began to relax. Amy wasn’t pretending, she was practical and she was honest and her opinion of Krista had been pretty low to start with.

  ‘Hah. Clumping about like Peg Leg Pete but he’s managing. We’re pretty busy.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. You should have said so.’

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s fine.’ Amy flung her a warm smile. ‘We’re really pleased you decided to stay.’

  ‘I’m never going back to Melbourne. Not like this.’ Krista stared out the window blindly. Her friends would be horrified. And Mama … how could she face Mama?

  ‘It’ll heal,’ said Amy. ‘Like Rod’s leg. It needs time. You need time.’

  ‘Amy, I’ll have a scar for the rest of my life,’ she said harshly. Why didn’t they understand? Any of them. This was her face. Her best asset. What did she have if she didn’t have beauty?

  Amy didn’t reply. Krista closed her eyes against the tears which seemed to be coming more frequently lately.

  ‘We met Les and Sally the other day,’ said Amy. ‘They called in to say hello and see how we, and you, were getting on.’

  Krista opened her eyes. ‘I never met Sally.’ The bridge near their gate was fast approaching. ‘Les helped me with the horses.’

  ‘He was pretty impressed with you. They want you to visit.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ she said flatly. How could she go out looking like a freak? It was bad enough the people she knew saw her in this state.

  The Grange had survived the fires by pure luck. Blackened grass was visible along the roadside past the gate when Amy slowed for the turn. The upper branches of the trees lining the fence on the far left of the front paddock looked as though a giant blowtorch had been along the row, singeing the tops.

  ‘I didn’t realise it came so close,’ Krista said. The memory of her last terrifying drive on this stretch of road flooded back, momentarily blotting out the misery of the present.

  ‘Spot fires. Luckily they didn’t get going before the firies got to them. The trees where you found Roddy are burned but it didn’t make it up to the house and yards. It’s weird the way that happens. Must have been the wind or something.’

  ‘Whatever it was, we were incredibly lucky. I was so worried you’d lose your home.’ It seemed an age ago. Another life. But she had been worried for Rod and Amy, felt the heavy responsibility when she’d rushed in to retrieve photos and the files. The representation of their life together.

  ‘You were fantastic, Krista. We’re so grateful to you.’ Amy stretched out a hand and grasped Krista’s briefly.

  Rod, with Lola sitting by his feet, was waiting by the front door of the main house and so, amazingly, was Angus.

  ‘Surprise,’ said Amy and got out before Krista could say a word.

  He came forward, opened the door for her and helped her out. Then, to complete her astonishment he pulled her into a hug.

  ‘I’m so sorry, sis,’ he said.

  Speechless she let him hold her. He’d never hugged her before. Lola was bouncing at her feet, yipping with excitement, so she eased herself from the embrace and bent to greet her. ‘Hello little one,’ she murmured and straightened because she’d forgotten the instructions and bending made her cheek throb. She wasn’t supposed to lower her head.

  Angus led her inside. Rod and Amy followed with her bag.

  ‘We put your things in your room,’ said Angus.

  ‘What things?’

  ‘I drove your car back from Melbourne,’ he said. ‘And I brought your handbag and make-up and anything else I thought you meant to bring with you.’

  ‘Angus … thank you.’ Who was this person? It certainly wasn’t the stepbrother she knew. That one wouldn’t have hugged her, or thought about anything she might have been planning. Or thought about her at all.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on while you settle in,’ said Rod. ‘C’mon, mate. Amy can help her.’

  Upstairs in her room, Krista sat on the bed. Her cheek throbbed with a regular monotonous pulse of pain and the effort of climbing the stairs drained her energy.

  ‘When did he turn up?’

  ‘Last night. Surprised us too.’ Amy smiled. ‘Look, he’s left your keys on the dressing table.’

  ‘Amazing.’ Her big red handbag was on the chair by the window.

  ‘Yes. Maybe all this has jolted him a bit.’

  ‘I doubt it’ll last very long.’ Krista heaved a deep sigh.

  ‘Shall I help you unpack?’

  ‘Just the small bag for now, thanks. I can do the others later. How long is he staying?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Krista stood up and went into the bathroom for a glass of water to down a couple of painkillers. The two bathroom bags containing all her toiletries and make-up were on the vanity. How bizarre that Angus would be thoughtful. He must have an ulterior motive, or Amy was right and he felt guilty. Briefly.

  When Krista and Amy joined them in the kitchen, Rod and Angus were sitting at the table deep in conversation.

  ‘Where were you?’ demanded Krista.

  Angus turned to face her, smiling. ‘In Macau.

  ‘Of course,’ she said in disgust. ‘Gambler’s paradise.’

  ‘I won the money to pay off the debt. You should be pleased.’

  How dare he be indignant? Did he ever listen to what came out of his mouth?

  ‘You lost the money gambling in the first place. Don’t you get it?’

  ‘But it’s fixed now.’ He sounded like a bewildered child. He was a child.

  ‘Fixed?’ she yelled. ‘Does this look fixed? I’m scarred, Angus. For life. I have nightmares. And it’s your fault. Don’t tell me it’s fixed. It’ll never be fixed.’

  ‘I’m sorr
y,’ he said helplessly. ‘I tried to make it right. They let you go.’

  ‘They’d have let me go anyway. This wasn’t about your money, I offered to pay them when they had me locked up, and they ignored me. This was about me being taught not to defy your mate Moran. I pissed him off last week when I told him I wasn’t paying your debt. It’s about control. His control.’

  ‘I didn’t think he’d go that far.’

  ‘Neither did I but he did. You knew what he was like, I didn’t, not fully. For God’s sake, Angus, grow up!’

  Krista slumped onto a chair, breathing hard. Lola pattered across and leaned against her leg. Amy opened the fridge and began transferring containers of cheese, ham, salad and butter to the table for lunch. Rod got up and started making tea. Angus sat glowering in the growing silence.

  A flicker of remorse sparked in Krista. She straightened slightly and said softly, ‘I know you tried, Angus. Thanks for bringing my car and my bags.’

  ‘I had the locks changed at the apartment,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think anyone had been in except me.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She tried a tiny smile and he returned it eagerly.

  ‘Would you mind if I stayed there, at your apartment?’

  ‘Aren’t you living here?’

  ‘Dad’s putting it on the market soon.’

  She’d forgotten. If it sold she’d have to go somewhere else to hide. Where? To the Sydney house with Hugh? He wouldn’t understand her desire for privacy and quiet. He’d expect her to snap out of it and take Mama’s place at social functions. The idea filled her with dread. She wanted to stay here at The Grange. At Taylor’s Bend.

  What about Rod and Amy? Weren’t they interested? Hadn’t they said as much that last night at Oliver’s place?

  Krista looked at Rod. ‘Have you told Hugh what you were talking about at Oliver’s?’

  He shook his head. ‘Haven’t had time to think it through.’

  ‘What?’ asked Angus.

  ‘They want to buy The Grange,’ said Krista.

  ‘Great idea.’ Typical Angus. The enthusiasm comes first and the calculations and planning later, if ever.