The House At Flynn's Crossing

by Elisabeth Rose

  ‘Are you charging Hannah?’

  ‘No, I don’t think we could mount a strong enough case. Her evidence against him will be very useful.’

  ‘If it hadn’t been for Hannah I probably wouldn’t have survived the birth of my babies.’

  ‘You were one of the lucky ones, Antonia.’

  ‘I know. Hannah did her best for the other girls but …’ A sob broke free. ‘He wouldn’t let me help, he wouldn’t … let anyone help.’

  ‘He’s going away for life, you can count on that.’

  ‘I just want to forget it.’

  ‘You will.’

  He sounded nice, sympathetic. Antonia made lunch, pondering when she could go to Sydney. If she went on Sunday and came home Tuesday afternoon, met Michael on Monday and Tuesday, she’d have to cancel her teaching but would only need one day off from the cafe. Next Monday then.

  She rang Connor.

  ‘Don’t drive to Sydney. Leave the car at Brisbane airport and fly down,’ he said. ‘The twins can stay with your mum while you’re busy. She’ll love it and so will they. I’ll book your tickets. Don’t worry about the money.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  As he predicted, her mum was thrilled. ‘We miss you all so much,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you stay the whole week?’

  ‘I have a job, Mum, and the twins have kindy. They love it.’

  ‘Are you happy there, darling?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’ Despite the tension with Simon, she was happy. Happier than she’d been for years. ‘We love the Mango House. It was sold recently but the new owners will rent it to me as long as I want to live here.’

  ‘That’s lucky. Are they locals?’

  ‘I don’t know. Flynn didn’t say.’

  ‘Connor told me about Flynn.’

  ‘They liked each other.’

  ‘So he said. How’s Simon getting on with the twins?’

  ‘Very well. They love having a proper Daddy.’

  ‘What about you? Are you interested in him at all?’

  ‘Mum, no!’

  ‘Okay. Just asking. What about him?’

  ‘Actually … he’s a bit …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s becoming a bit possessive. He seems to think he has the right to tell me who I can talk to.’

  ‘Ant, don’t let him get away with that!’

  ‘It’s not like … like before. I don’t mean that. It’s more that he seems to expect me to... well for example there’s a thing going on here with a property developer and half the town is against the proposal, Simon and the co-op people included. Simon seemed to expect me to follow him if he decided to leave town. I didn’t come here to be with him, Mum, but that’s what he thinks. Or seems to. I’m not sixteen anymore.’

  ‘Did you tell him how you feel?’

  ‘Yes, and he was upset.’

  ‘Who doesn’t he want you to talk to? Everyone?’

  ‘Flynn.’

  ‘He’s jealous.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Ant, darling … do you see a lot of Flynn?’

  ‘More or less. He comes into the cafe and he’s the agent for the house. It’s a small town, people see each other all the time.’

  ‘So do you think Simon has reason to be jealous of Flynn?’

  ‘I’m not …’

  ‘I think maybe you are, darling. And maybe Flynn is too. Your dad thought so.’ Mum chuckled. ‘Let me know what time your flight comes in and we’ll meet you. Love you. Love to the twins.’

  ***

  ‘How much will it cost to leave my car at the airport? And how do I find the parking station?’ Antonia asked Cath the next morning. Flying to Sydney was obviously quickest and she’d be met at the other end, but the logistics of negotiating the airport with two small children and luggage, coupled with never having flown before, were daunting.

  ‘There’ll be signs but I’ve no idea of the cost. Ask Flynn when he comes in.’

  She’d have to. Simon wouldn’t know anything about it and she really didn’t want to talk to him at the moment. Not that she wanted to talk to Flynn either, but she had to ask someone for help or she’d get completely lost and miss their flight.

  He didn’t come in until well after lunch. Cath had gone to the bank. Antonia was clearing tables and serving coffee and dessert to the lingerers when he took his regular spot at the counter.

  ‘Hi. The regular?’ she asked. She could make coffee to Cath’s satisfaction now, which meant Cath could have a breather when the lunch crowd rush died down.

  ‘Hello. Yes, please. How’s Sarah?’

  ‘She seems okay. She went to school happily enough and I haven’t had a call.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  She concentrated on making his espresso. When she placed it before him, she said, ‘I have to go Sydney on Sunday. Dad has organised the air tickets but I’ve never flown before. What time should I get to the airport? Cath said you’d know. Apparently I can leave my car there too but I don’t know where or how much it costs. The flight is at one forty-five.’ Did she sound as anxious as she was?

  ‘Are the twins going too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ll need to be there about an hour before the flight time to check in your bags and go through security. Will you have luggage?’

  ‘One bag. We’re coming back on Tuesday afternoon.’

  ‘Okay, so you’ll need to leave here by nine-thirty or ten at the latest. Two hours drive, say twenty minutes to park and get to the terminal, check-in etc. That would get you there and ready in plenty of time.’

  ‘As long as I don’t get lost.’

  ‘There are plenty of signs and you can ask for directions. Or you could leave earlier to make sure.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Are you worried about it?’

  She realised she was biting at her lower lip and stopped. ‘A bit. Everything is slower with the twins in tow and there’ll be lots of traffic, won’t there?’

  ‘Probably on a Sunday it won’t be so bad. Tuesday might be worse but you’ll know where you’re going then.’

  She gave a doubtful little snorting laugh and went to take the money from a customer who was leaving. When she returned to take his empty cup he said, ‘I could drive you and pick you up when you get back.’

  The offer was overwhelmingly tempting but … ‘Thanks Flynn. I think I really need to be able to do this stuff myself. I don’t want to be helpless and have to rely on people for things.’

  He studied her for a moment. ‘Accepting help occasionally isn’t being helpless. Sometimes it’s just practical. I can drop you at departures and you can take it from there. It just means you won’t have to worry about parking and getting to the right terminal.’

  ‘But it means hours of driving for you.’

  ‘I can catch up with friends and come back in the evening. No worries. I’ve done it before.’

  The friend being the woman he went out with before? ‘I’ll have to think about it. But thanks.’

  ‘Okay. Whatever you decide. See you later.’ He slid off the stool and headed for the door.

  Antonia wiped the countertop, pondering the concept of Flynn. Was he so insensitive to what Simon might think about his offer, or did he just not care? Why was she thinking about Simon’s reaction anyway? She’d made it clear to both of them she was her own boss. Flynn was simply acting on that assertion. Wasn’t he? Or was he deliberately trying to upset Simon? She hadn’t taken him for a petty man.

  Simon would be upset, that was for sure, but she knew for certain he hadn’t been anywhere near Brisbane airport or any other airport in his life. He didn’t read newspapers, didn’t watch TV. He hadn’t been farther than Kurrajong since he’d moved here. He’d told her himself. If he had to go to Sydney he’d drive.

  She shook her head free of such annoying thoughts. Flynn’s offer was kind and would save her a lot of stress, which she didn’t need given the reason for the trip. And on the return
journey she and the twins would be tired. Driving home in the evening would be downright dangerous.

  She’d call in to Flynn’s office and accept on the way home.

  Chapter 12

  Would Antonia tell Simon how she was getting to Brisbane and back? She was fighting hard to be strong and independent but in some areas she was vulnerable and unsure of herself. Endearingly so. When she walked through the door just now his heart did a hop and a skip, and when she said ‘yes please’ to the ride he had to force himself not to jump out of his chair with delight.

  Instead he nodded with a reserved but friendly smile and said, ‘Fine. I’ll swing by at ten.’

  She hadn’t said why she was going to Sydney at such short notice. It wasn’t a pleasure trip; he could tell by the tension in her body. Something to do with her abusive ex, perhaps? At least she wasn’t prepared to leave the twins with their father, which meant Simon was no closer to her than he was. And she hadn’t gone to Simon for help either. A small but satisfying victory on the road to gaining her complete trust.

  On Sunday he arrived at the Mango House just before ten. Jacob was sitting on the steps. He waved at Flynn and scurried inside. Moments later, Antonia appeared clutching a suitcase. Both twins ran to the car where Flynn waited with the boot open.

  ‘Hello, everyone,’ he said.

  ‘Hello, Flynn,’ they chorused. No shyness now.

  Antonia caught his eye in the midst of the whirlwind, smiled. ‘Good morning.’

  ‘We’re going on an aeroplane,’ said Jacob.

  ‘That’s exciting. You’ll like it.’

  ‘Will we?’ asked Sarah doubtfully.

  ‘I think so.’

  Antonia handed him the suitcase and he slung it into the boot. ‘Packing light,’ he said.

  ‘We don’t need much.’

  ‘We’re staying with Gran and Frank while Mummy goes to talk to someone,’ said Sarah.

  ‘That’ll be fun.’

  Antonia clicked the children’s seatbelts. Would she tell him why she was going or not? He couldn’t ask, he’d have to wait for her to speak.

  She didn’t say anything beyond short replies to questions from the back seat. That she was eaten up by nerves was obvious, but was it the plane ride or the someone she was going to talk to?

  ‘When you go into the terminal, look for the Qantas check-in counters,’ he said. ‘They have auto check-in stands. All you have to do is follow the onscreen instructions and put in your flight number and name and so on and it will print your boarding passes. Then you take your bag to the Bag Drop counter and that’s it.’

  ‘What if something goes wrong?’

  ‘It won’t, but if you get confused there’ll be staff to help you. Then you go through security. Make sure you don’t have anything metal—scissors or nail clippers, knives, guns, a bomb, in your carry-on bag.’ He gave her a sidelong glance and caught her looking at him in surprise.

  ‘A gun?’ she said.

  He laughed and she laughed too, but it was brittle.

  ‘You put your handbag and Sarah’s backpack through the X-ray and walk through a scanner. You’ll see what to do. Sometimes it’ll beep if you have a metal belt buckle or something but don’t worry if that happens. They’ll check. When you’re through that, look at the board for the departure gate for your flight and go there and wait.’

  ‘It sounds very complicated.’

  ‘It’s not really. It’s more of a nuisance than anything.’

  ‘I’m glad you know what to do,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No worries.’

  But she didn’t look any more relaxed.

  When they finally reached the departure drop-off zone, he took the suitcase from the boot and placed it on the footpath.

  ‘Just go through there,’ he said, indicating the sliding doors.

  She nodded and grasped the handle of the bag as though it was a life preserver.

  ‘I’ll be waiting outside the arrivals hall on Tuesday afternoon in the pick-up lane. Look for the car,’ he said. ‘Call me if the flight’s delayed.’

  Another nod. Why was she so nervous? He should be going with her but couldn’t have suggested it. Instead he took the risk and kissed her cheek, lingering as long as he dared. Her body quivered under his hands when he held her lightly.

  ‘Take care,’ he said and released her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she murmured, but this time her little smile was genuine, shy, and her cheeks turned a rosy pink. He stole another quick kiss.

  ‘See you later, kiddos,’ he said to the twins. ‘Have fun.’

  ‘We will,’ they said.

  He waited until they’d disappeared through the glass doors before getting back into the car and heading for home. Spending the day in Brisbane held no appeal whatsoever.

  ***

  Monday dragged. Tuesday morning dragged. Flynn checked the flight arrival time twice, discovering it was scheduled as ‘on time’ both times. Antonia hadn’t called or texted. Not that he expected to hear anything. He’d leave just before two to meet her flight at four-twenty.

  At twelve forty-five, when he was contemplating going along to the pub for lunch before hitting the road, Aidan called.

  ‘Better get out here, Flynn. Baldessin is knocking down the house next door and there’s a bit of a protest brewing.’

  ‘Oh Christ. Is it a police matter?’

  ‘Not yet but it might turn into one. Some of the protesters aren’t locals.’

  ‘Jesus. Okay I’m on my way.’

  ‘What’s up?’ asked Brandon.

  ‘They’re demolishing the house on that block next to the co-op. Some out-of-town protesters are there.’

  ‘Wow. Why?’

  ‘Indeed. See you later.’

  Cursing, Flynn flung himself into his car and careered down the main street. What the hell did they think they could do about it? Chain themselves to the wrecking ball? Bloody idiots. And what God-awful timing. With any luck he could deal with it and be on his way on schedule. He couldn’t possibly leave Antonia stranded.

  The protest group was relatively small—about ten people, some of whom he recognised, others as Aidan had said, he didn’t. A photographer he knew from the Kurrajong News was there, accompanied by a young female reporter, blonde hair scraped back in a knot, smart in a red blouse and white jeans and talking to Lauren and Rufus who held placards saying ‘Save our National Park’ and ‘Stop the Development’. The strangers stood across the driveway, creating a barrier. Professional protesters he’d guess by their confidently aggressive attitude. The other locals stood to one side watching—Simon, Hugo and another equally unkempt person from the commune, Mary, Helen and Glenda, of course. Aidan had stayed away.

  A large dump truck was parked on the road with the driver sitting in the cab smoking while he waited. A bobcat and an excavator were at work dismantling the old wooden-framed house.

  Flynn walked across to the group. Simon folded his arms but said nothing.

  ‘This shouldn’t be happening, Flynn,’ said Mary. She gestured at the wrecking.

  ‘Why not? The land was up for sale and someone bought it. The owner can knock the house down if he wants to.’

  ‘It’s what he’s building in its place that’s the problem,’ said Glenda.

  ‘And what is he building there?’ asked Flynn.

  ‘You know perfectly well.’

  ‘I don’t. Do you?’

  ‘Don’t play the innocent,’ said Mary. She’d had it in for him ever since he’d turned down her blatant attempt at seduction a few years ago. A woman going through a messy divorce wasn’t one to be tangled with and when he’d sold a house near Whiterock to her ex and his new partner a year later, his name was mud—even though she had a new man in her life.

  ‘I’m not. As far as I know, and the council knows, Baldessin hasn’t got approval to build anything. I know he has plans for improvements, which would benefit everyone in the town, but as far as I know he hasn’t secu
red any government backing and hasn’t made any final decisions. I do know he really likes the area.’

  ‘Are you trying to tell us he might be building himself a house?’ Glenda spat venom like a cane toad. She even looked a bit like one.

  ‘He might be. I don’t know. It’s his land. Would you have a problem with that?’ he glanced at Simon but received nothing by way of acknowledgement. Did he know where Antonia was and why? He must.

  ‘No, but how we do know for sure?’

  ‘You could ask him.’

  Flynn left them muttering to each other, turned and strode across to Lauren and Rufus. The photographer clicked off a few shots and said, ‘G’day, Flynn.’

  ‘G’day, Bob.’ Balding, overweight and cynical.

  The reporter, eager as a terrier after a rat, stepped forward. ‘Mr Flynn,’ she said. ‘Megan Raynor, Kurrajong News. Can you tell us what’s planned for this site?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Surely you have an idea what Baldessin has in mind here. It’s no secret a resort development is on the cards.’

  ‘Nothing’s been decided yet in that regard. Mr Baldessin bought this property and he can do what he likes with it, including knock down the existing buildings.’

  ‘What stage are the resort plans at?’

  ‘Planning.’

  ‘So it will go ahead, completely ignoring the community concerns.’

  ‘I can’t say one way or the other. Speculation is rife as it is.’

  ‘Is Mr Baldessin keeping you informed of progress?’

  ‘Yes, but these things take time.’

  ‘So why is this building being demolished so quickly?’

  ‘Ask Mr Baldessin.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘That’s bullshit, Flynn,’ Rufus broke in. ‘You know exactly what he’s doing and you’re helping. He wants to buy out the co-op and he’s preparing the ground so he can get cracking as soon as he gets approval. This side of the block is where he wants to build his resort and we’re in the way of his expansion. Get rid of us and he’s away.’

  ‘Any comment?’ Megan’s bright blue eyes fixed on Flynn.

  ‘No. Mr Baldessin has assured me he has no intention of forcing anyone off their property. If conditions aren’t right he’ll take his ideas elsewhere. That, in my opinion, would be a great shame and a terrific opportunity lost to Flynn’s Crossing.’