Where There Is Smoke

by Elisabeth Rose

  ‘It depends on how much Hugh wants,’ said Amy.

  ‘I reckon land prices will drop because of the fire and the drought in general,’ Rod said hopefully.

  ‘You should make him an offer,’ said Angus. ‘I think he’d be happy to get rid of the place easily. Once he makes up his mind about something, he likes to get it done.’

  ‘That’s what I said.’ Krista nodded. ‘Ring him and see what he says.’

  ‘He likes you,’ added Angus. ‘As opposed to me.’

  Rod and Amy shared a long look, one of those mysterious communications that happily married couples use to convey all sorts of things that are secret from onlookers.

  ‘Now?’ Rod asked.

  ‘Might as well.’ Amy smiled. ‘See if we have any chance at all.’

  ‘Use the phone in the study,’ said Angus.

  Rod drew a deep breath and headed out the door. Amy continued setting the table for lunch. Krista got up to help but Amy said, ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t want you to feel you have to look after me,’ Krista said.

  ‘I don’t, that’s why we’re having salad and sandwiches for lunch, but you’ve just come out of hospital so it’s the least I can do.’ She smiled. ‘Special consideration for today.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Rod came back in with a gloomy expression. ‘He was about to go into a meeting so he couldn’t talk for long but I got a figure out of him. Two million.’

  ‘That settles that then.’ Amy turned her back and finished making the tea Rod had begun, the disappointment evident in the droop of her shoulders.

  ‘Is that a fair price?’ Krista asked. It sounded like a lot to her. The land wouldn’t be worth much but the house was big, new and luxuriously fitted out.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Amy. ‘It’s worth what someone will pay and at the moment I doubt anyone would pay that.’

  ‘It includes three horses,’ said Rod. ‘Not counting Calypso and Arch Rival. They belong to you two.’

  ‘Could you afford it without the horses?’ Angus asked.

  ‘We’d have to buy more if we did that and Fred’s in demand. He’s a good asset. So are two of the mares, but one, The Ghost, is getting old.’

  ‘How much are you short?’

  ‘Angus, that’s none of your business,’ said Krista.

  ‘We can come up with half that. But it’s not worth two million. More like one seven, if that.’ Amy put the teapot on the table with a thud and a face as miserable as Rod’s. ‘And please don’t suggest you can raise the rest by gambling what we have.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to. But I did win enough to pay off my debt. Just saying,’ he added when Krista groaned and glared at him.

  ***

  Oliver’s finger hung poised over his phone countless times when Krista went home from hospital, but each time he resisted and jammed the mobile back in his pocket. He had to stay away until she was ready, until she called him. Doc recommended he give her space to come to terms with what had happened.

  ‘Don’t crowd her,’ he said in the pub when Oliver ran into him there on Saturday evening. ‘She has to reassess her place in the world.’

  ‘She thinks she’s ugly,’ Oliver said. ‘She’s not.’

  ‘Of course she’s not, but to her she is. She was a beautiful woman with flawless skin and in her world that kind of perfection was critical. Her life, as she sees it, is ruined.’

  ‘There’s so much more to her than that. I don’t care that she has a scar.’

  Doc’s smile was sympathetic. ‘I know, Ollie.’

  ‘What can I do? Or any of us?’

  ‘Nothing much as yet. Call her, ask how she’s getting on. I’ll see her next week for the stitches to come out.’

  ‘Do you think the scar will be very bad? I wouldn’t have thought so by what I saw but I’m used to animals with tougher hides. Her skin is so delicate.’ And soft. Flawless, as Doc said.

  ‘McInnis is very good so it’ll be minimal. It’s how she copes with it that matters most.’

  ‘She told me once that her mother raised her to think her beauty is her only asset. And she believes it.’

  ‘She has to be brought to see that’s not so, but slowly, Ollie. Don’t push.’

  ‘When we made it away from the bushfire we were both dirty, smelling of smoke and bruised—you saw us—and she didn’t care then. I thought she was changing, realising how superficial her perception of beauty is.’

  ‘It was a different situation. You’d done it together and you’d survived. She was proud to have done something important, to have helped, and deep down she knew that dirt washes off and bruises fade. This won’t, and this was an act done with the deliberate intention of frightening and humiliating her. Making her feel powerless, insignificant, worth nothing.’

  ‘Her self-esteem was never strong,’ said Oliver. ‘Her mother saw to that, unintentionally I suppose, but still effectively.’ That aloof disdain that so annoyed him when they first met was a front, a barrier to protect herself from being exposed as the deeply insecure woman she really was.

  On Sunday, Oliver was feeding Billy when an unfamiliar white sedan pulled up and Angus called from the gate. He walked up to let him in. Angus had collected Lola and Krista’s suitcase a few days ago, surprising Oliver with his concern for her. Given the trouble he’d caused, Oliver had been sorely tempted to give him an earful but figured Krista would do that.

  ‘G’day.’ He unlocked the padlock and let the gate swing wide. The car must be a rental because he’d driven Krista’s back for her from Melbourne.

  ‘Hi Oliver. I’m not stopping. I’ve come to say goodbye. I’m on my way back to Melbourne.’

  ‘How’s Krista?’

  ‘Not bad physically, but she’s pretty down. She has nightmares and doesn’t want to go out, doesn’t want to be seen.’

  ‘The scar?’

  Angus nodded. ‘She thinks it’s ruined her life. Don’t know why. It’s pretty ugly right now, but it won’t be when they take the stitches out and the redness goes. She can’t see that. She’s always been obsessed with how she looks. Gets that from her mother.’

  ‘She had a rough few days, Angus. Apart from the knife wound, she was held captive, remember? She was terrified. No wonder she has bad dreams.’

  ‘Yeah, I know but she’s safe now.’

  ‘And we were both attacked a few days before that in the middle of a bushfire.’ Was Angus as dense as he appeared? No wonder Krista always had a low opinion of him. And his father.

  ‘Yeah, yeah. It must have been awful.’

  ‘It was. I’ve still got bruises.’ Mostly on his torso from being kicked. He’d managed a few minutes on the cello yesterday before his wrist ached too much, and that had been encouraging. He planned more practice today and possibly the rehearsal on Wednesday night.

  ‘Anyway, Krista’s letting me stay at her place.’

  ‘So she’s not going back to Melbourne?’

  ‘No way. She’s hiding out at The Grange so no-one sees her. Like in Beauty and the Beast, except she’s not a beast. She just thinks she is.’

  Oliver sighed and kept his mouth firmly shut. Who did that make Beauty? Fairy stories were about Angus’s level.

  ‘Has her mother been in touch? Or Hugh?’

  ‘Don’t think so. Dad said he’d tell Viivi but I don’t know where she is. She might have called Krista. I spoke to Dad a few days ago. Rod and Amy want to buy The Grange but they can’t afford it. Dad’s hard-nosed when it comes to business.’

  Oliver nodded. Hugh hadn’t arrived where he was by being a soft touch and he’d proven that by his attitude to Angus and the Moran problem.

  Krista would leave when The Grange was sold. Would she have recovered enough to survive without help? Maybe she’d see a counsellor when the stitches came out and the wound had healed. From what Angus was saying, she desperately needed support but would she accept it from anyone? From him?

  Angus said, ‘You should gi
ve her a call and tell her to stop being an idiot. She’s the only sister I’ve got, you know, and I do care about her, despite what she thinks.’ He held out his hand. ‘Sorry for all this, Oliver,’ he said breezily.

  Oliver shook the proffered hand. ‘Sure. Drive safely.’ What else could he say? In Angus world the sun was shining again and the future gleamed bright and shiny.

  Angus laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson.’

  He beeped the horn and waved as he drove away. That bloke was incapable of learning anything, but one positive had emerged from the mess. Angus and Krista had somehow come a little closer and the man was right about one other thing. Neither of them had other siblings and maintaining that newly appreciated bond was important.

  Oliver went back to his chores, and after he’d finished and cleaned up he rang Krista but she didn’t answer so he left a stumbling, awkward message. Then he phoned his own brother.

  Chapter 17

  Krista drove herself to see Doc to have her stitches removed. It was her first foray into public view since leaving hospital. Not that she was planning to walk down the main street and show herself off. Far from it. She’d asked for her appointment to be the first of the day. No-one in the waiting room and only that receptionist to deal with. She’d park right outside and go straight in and out. She’d manage.

  Even so, her heart thudded wildly and sweat that wasn’t from the day’s heat trickled down her back as she pulled up in the gutter outside the surgery. Clouds had built up this morning, the first likely looking rain-bearers for weeks according to Rod. He and Amy hoped fervently for rain today but she found it hard to summon up more than a semblance of interest. A brisk wind tugged at her clothes and hair when she opened the car door and walked up the path.

  The blonde smiled. ‘Good morning. Please take a seat. Doc will be with you in a few minutes.’ This time there was no acid in the woman’s tone and her smile was pure friendliness.

  Krista did as she was told, sitting with her face averted, back to the door.

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ the receptionist said.

  Krista turned her head, gritting her teeth against a flood of sympathetic words that would mean nothing. The woman was coming towards her with a clipboard in her hand. ‘I do need you to fill out the form this time.’ No antagonism, no sense of a victory.

  She nodded and took the clipboard with the form and pen attached to it. Doc appeared before she’d finished and exchanged a few words with the receptionist about organising another patient’s tests.

  ‘Thanks, Penny,’ he said. ‘See if you can get them to speed up the results.’

  Penny, that was her name. Krista had forgotten, hopeless with names. She handed the clipboard back.

  ‘Come in, Krista.’ Doc smiled, ushered her into his office and closed the door. ‘Nice to see you. How are you?’

  ‘All right.’ How could she possibly answer such a question? She was upright, she was breathing.

  ‘Any pain?’

  ‘Not as much now. It’s sore to touch.’

  ‘Yes, that’s to be expected. You’ve been following the hospital aftercare instructions, I take it? Let’s have a look.’

  Brow wrinkled, Doc peered at her, touching her cheek with gentle fingers. ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘These can come out.’ He reached for scissors.

  Krista closed her eyes while he snipped. It didn’t matter how carefully he did it or how brilliantly Dr McInnis had done his job, the fact remained that the ugly, red, lumpy wound disfigured her.

  ‘You’ll need to massage Vaseline or vitamin E oil into it three or four times a day. That will help minimise the scar and speed up the healing.’

  He proceeded to demonstrate the technique, explaining as he applied Vaseline. ‘Don’t overdo it. Firm but gentle.’

  Finished, he sat back, wiping his hands on a paper towel. ‘It’ll take a few months, Krista, but I promise you the end result will be a very fine line. Nothing like it is now. You’ll be able to conceal it very well with make-up if you think it’s necessary.’

  ‘If I think it’s necessary?’ she burst out. ‘Of course it’s necessary. How can I show my face like this?’

  ‘You can when you’re ready. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I think you’ll find the locals will be very sympathetic.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ she muttered. Pitying glances, faces dripping sympathy disguising relief that it wasn’t them. The attitude locals had towards The Grange wasn’t going to change because she was injured. Penny’s may have, but some people would think it served the rich city blow-ins right.

  ‘Krista, life is tougher out here. People judge others by their actions, not what they look like.’ He chuckled. ‘If looks were the only yardstick none of us would measure up. You’ve proven yourself already during the fires. You earned yourself a lot of respect that day. And that attack out at The Grange on you and Oliver made people really angry. Let alone this recent trauma.’

  So apparently she was the current subject of discussion and interest here in Taylor’s Bend. If she ventured out again she’d create a spectacle, stop traffic, enthral children as though the circus had come to town. The thought made her heart thud and her skin clammy.

  ‘I don’t belong here, Doc.’ Her voice wavered. She swallowed and clenched her fingers tight against the tears. Her nails dug into her palms.

  ‘Don’t you?’ His eyes were too kind, she couldn’t look.

  ‘This isn’t my real life.’ She had no real life, here or anywhere else.

  ‘Ollie said you were planning to stay at The Grange.’

  ‘If it sells I can’t.’

  ‘Until it does you can think about what you really want. Unless you have other commitments you have to deal with elsewhere.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘In some ways that could be a good thing. It gives you scope for a clean start. To reinvent yourself in a place where there are no preconceived notions about you.’

  Something in his tone penetrated the fog of despair. Doc was a private man, Oliver said. Was he telling her something about himself? Had he come here for a clean start? Oliver had. He’d told her this was a chance to establish himself away from his father’s critical gaze, to prove himself. But these two men had careers and goals. They were educated, cultured and intelligent and they knew what they wanted to do with their lives.

  ‘Before … this … I thought I could do that. I was planning to change my life. To try, at least.’

  ‘None of that has changed, Krista,’ he said gently. ‘This is a setback, not the end.’

  ‘Thank you. I should go.’ She stood up quickly.

  ‘Krista, are you sleeping?’

  His voice stopped her escape. She swallowed.

  ‘I had bad dreams for the first few nights. Nightmares.’

  ‘That’s natural. Are you able to sleep at all? I can prescribe something if you want.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I’d rather not. The last two nights haven’t been so bad.’ She’d allowed Lola to sleep on her bed and cuddled the warm soft body when she woke in blind fear. She looked into Doc’s kind eyes. ‘I let my dog sleep on the bed. I never thought I would do that.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Doc stood as well. ‘There’s a counsellor in Willoughby you should visit if the nightmares don’t fade within a few weeks. If that happens, he can help you and I strongly recommend you see him.’ He wrote down a name and phone number and gave her the slip of paper. ‘You could see him anyway.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Give him, and yourself, a chance. Doctor’s orders.’ His gaze was as firm as his voice. She took the slip and put it in her bag.

  ‘Goodbye.’

  ‘Come and see me in a couple of weeks.’ She nodded and he held the door open for her. ‘Take care of yourself,’ he said.

  Penny printed out the account. ‘Do you need another appointment?’

  ‘Not at the moment.’

  Krista tapped her credit card and waited
for the receipt. The door opened and a burly man with a blue shirt straining over a beer belly walked in, limping badly.

  ‘Morning, Bob,’ said Penny. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Bloody awful,’ he grunted and lowered himself onto a chair.

  Penny handed Krista the paperwork. ‘There you go.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘By the way,’ Penny said. ‘While you’re in town you might like to pop in and see Abbie. She’s working on the sets at the Arts Centre this morning. She mentioned you’d offered to help and she certainly could do with it.’

  ‘Yes, I did but …’

  ‘You wouldn’t need to stay this morning if you’ve other things on but she’s keen to meet you.’ Her eyes remained fixed on Krista’s, insisting on a reply, waiting for a yes.

  ‘Maybe.’ Krista edged towards the door and made her escape.

  Outside, she heaved a sigh of relief. See Abbie while she was in town? What did Penny think? That was she was in Taylor’s Bend doing her shopping and making social calls after having the stitches removed? A car drove by and she averted her damaged cheek before getting into her own car. She started the engine. If she drove straight on she’d end up passing Oliver’s place. She did a U-turn to go back the way she’d come. The Arts Centre was on the other side of the main street. She gave it a glance as she passed but didn’t slow down.

  Back at The Grange, Lola bounded to greet her and scampered in front of her on the walk to the house from the garage. The wind had dropped but the cloudbank was bigger now, covering half the sky with massed castles of white and grey; the temperature was heading up as usual. Most likely a thunderstorm was brewing. Rain would be a novelty out here.

  Inside, she made herself coffee and took it to the terrace to drink. Lola lay on the warm tiles at her feet. ‘We’ll unpack another bag today.’

  Lola’s tail thumped a few times.

  ‘You don’t care what I look like, do you?’ Krista said.

  Her phone rang. She frowned. The number was unfamiliar.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Is that Krista? Hi, it’s Abbie. I’m the artist doing the sets for the show.’

  ‘Abbie, yes, hello.’