Shona Jackson- The Complete Trilogy

by Vicky Jones

  "I did a sketch today," Chloe said, changing the subject. The table fell silent. Eleanor Bruce's potato-loaded fork hovered in front of her half-open mouth.

  "Um…OK?" Kyle nodded, confused as to the relevance of her statement.

  "It was of the little church in town," Chloe smiled, her face softening towards him for the first time that evening.

  "Chloe does little sketches," Bruce announced through chewed food.

  "Father, it's my passion." She stared indignantly at him.

  "Honey, listen, I just don't think you should waste your time. There's no money in that field, ain't that right, Kyle?"

  Kyle nodded as he mopped up his Bearnaise sauce with a hunk of bread.

  "No, money is made in business. Being smart, using your head. Not drawing. You agree with me, don't you, Kyle?" Bruce stared intently at him.

  "Absolutely, sir!"

  Chloe felt like she was imploding. Her only contribution to the table all evening had been shot down.

  "I need some air," she huffed, dropping her knife and fork.

  "Sweetheart, you can't go out like this." Eleanor sprang up out of her seat to chase after her daughter but the front door had already slammed shut.

  Chapter 32

  Chloe's flame-red Chevrolet Deluxe roared to life as she turned the key in the ignition and sped off down the long driveway to the main road. Normally she would cruise along the Alabama roads enjoying the scenery, but right now her blood was fizzing through her veins. Reaching the open road, she stamped her foot down on the gas pedal, the hard, gray asphalt giving way to the open yellowy-green plains of surrounding farmland. The evening sun hugged the horizon as if inviting Chloe to keep driving forward. She turned onto a road parallel to the Weaver, the water twinkling as it caught the orange haze of the fading sun.

  A flicker of movement in the distance to her left immediately caught her attention. It was somebody riding a horse on a road parallel to the one she was racing along. They must have been going fast as Chloe floored the gas pedal, struggling to keep up with their pace. The galloping horse kicked up plumes of dust in its wake, looking as if it was doing everything in its mighty power to fling its rider off at any moment. The accomplished-looking rider hung on, though, equally determined–they both seemed in perfect sync with each other.

  Keeping one eye on the road, glancing across to the left every few seconds, Chloe squinted to see who was riding so fast, then accelerated so she was level with the horse as if they were both racing for an imaginary finish line. Up ahead, the roads were due to merge so Chloe, adrenaline-fueled intrigue pumping through her, sped up to get there first. As expected, the rider also made a gradual turn but didn't appear to make any attempt to slow down.

  With the distance between the racing horse and speeding car shortening rapidly, Chloe realized what was about to happen and came crashing to her senses. She thumped her right foot down and, with an ear-piercing screech of brakes, skidded the car along the ground. The next few seconds were a blur as she clamped her eyes shut, waiting for the impending thud of the horse crushing her shiny red hood.

  But there was no impact.

  The quick-witted rider pulled up just in time. Through closed eyes, she heard the sickening sound of the horse shrieking, the clump of hooves and the crash of the rider being bucked off and dropped like a sack of potatoes.

  Opening her eyes, she waited a few excruciating seconds for the dust to settle, then slowly got out of her car. The rider was sitting awkwardly on the ground, shaking away a concussion. She clasped a hand to her mouth in horror when she realized the identity of the rider she had almost killed.

  It was Shona.

  Chloe squinted in the dust, bowing her head slightly as she approached her. "You're Shona, aren’t you? We haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m—"

  "I know who you are. But that don' give you no right to drive like a maniac into people."

  Wincing, Shona stood up stiffly. Stretching out her back, she set about making sure she could still move all of her joints, then brushed herself off.

  "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to–" Chloe edged forward.

  "You were drivin' pretty fast. You spooked m'horse." Shona turned away, concentrating solely on calming Storm.

  "I know. I'm sorry, I was just curious to know who the maniac on the horse was!" Chloe attempted a joke to break the ice, but her humor had no effect on Shona whatsoever. "I'm glad it was you, though. I've been trying to catch up with you since I started working back here. I heard good things about you," she continued, edging closer still.

  "I'm just busy. I work hard." Shona rested her thumping head against her horse's muzzle.

  "Your horse?" Chloe asked softly.

  "Kinda," she replied, straightening up her saddle. "Her name's Storm. She's owned by the people I live with. You ride?"

  "Sometimes. But not much these days. I miss it." Chloe looked to the horizon.

  It was then that Shona raised her eyes and looked at her properly.

  Chloe Bruce was stunningly beautiful. She was an inch shorter than Shona, her low heels adding hardly anything to her height of five foot six. Her soft, light brown hair shone in the dying light, the evening dress she was wearing caressing every curve of her hourglass figure. Shona was hypnotically drawn to her eyes, but there was such a look of sadness in them. What was going on in her seemingly perfect life to make her so sad? Shona wondered.

  Chloe looked back at Shona, their eyes locking together properly for the first time.

  First to break away, Shona returned to petting Storm who had nudged her arm as if to remind her she was present.

  "How come you’re dressed up all fancy?" She couldn't help noticing the incongruity of Chloe's dark blue velvet evening gown against the dull yellow dirt, especially in the dusky hue of the setting sun.

  "It was a bit of a disastrous dinner…date, whatever you wanna call it."

  "Sorry 'bout that."

  "That's OK."

  "Got a real nice car here, designed to go fast. Ain't no wonder you don't ride no more, not when you can go faster in this beast!" She ran an admiring hand lightly across the fender, picking some dirt off with her strong fingers. "You should have that roof down, though. Feel the wind through your hair."

  Chloe responded with an embarrassed smile. "You're right. My father said I shouldn't, though. Says it gives off the wrong impression of me and that I'm somehow making myself available."

  Chloe tapped her fingers lightly on the side of the car as if apologizing to it. Shona shook her head, knowing she had to be mindful of what she said about Larry Bruce.

  "Well, if I had this car, you can bet your boots I'd be driving around with that roof down and letting the wind blast my hair." She hooked an arm over the car roof, whistling as she looked through the window at the stylish chrome finish on the instruments. Shona really did appreciate a fine-looking car.

  Chloe grinned. "That sounds good." She stroked her fingers across the car roof.

  "Anyway," Shona said as she ran her hand through her tousled blonde hair and motioned to Storm, "I need to get this one back."

  "OK. But it was nice to finally get to talk to you, Shona."

  "Likewise." She hooked her leg over Storm and rode off into the distance. Chloe smiled for a moment as she watched her leave before returning to her vehicle.

  Half a mile across the fields where she had said her goodbyes to Chloe, a violent lurch erupted in Shona's stomach. She reared the horse to a stop, almost crashing to the ground for the second time that day. Hunched over, she staggered to a small sprouting of bushes and began to retch behind them. Struggling to breathe, she sank to her knees, the tears streaming from her eyes.

  Not again! She thought.

  Chapter 33

  "I didn't hear you leave this mornin'."

  Cuban found Shona out the back of the tool room on Wednesday morning, sweeping the floor like she was trying to strip the concrete from it.

  "Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd get
in early. Might as well be doing somethin' useful."

  "Some bruise you got there!" Cuban pointed at Shona's face.

  "What? Oh, it’s nothin’. I fell off Storm is all."

  "You OK?"

  "Yes, Cuban, I'm fine! Stop gettin' my goat, will ya!"

  Cuban held his hands up in defense and backed away. He stood a few feet away from her, kicking at the ground with his heel. After a minute or so, she leaned on her broom exhausted, wiped her brow and smiled apologetically.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap, it's just, well, last night–" Shona began. "You see, I was on Storm…when–"

  A cheery voice sliced through Shona's soft tones.

  "Morning, Cuban." Chloe strolled over to them, her red and white halter-neck dress blowing in the cool early morning breeze. She smiled broadly, her left hand holding down her summer hat as she approached.

  "Morning, Miss Chloe." Cuban tipped his cap.

  Shona turned and bent down to scoop up her sweepings.

  "Good morning, Shona." Chloe's brown eyes twinkled in the morning sunshine as she removed her cat eye sunglasses.

  "Ma'am." Shona glanced up briefly.

  "Jeez, that's some black eye you got there. I hope it doesn't hurt too much!" Chloe's voice softened with concern.

  "Some crazy driver spooked my horse and I fell off." Shona threw the sweepings into a small metal trash can, slamming the lid down with a clang.

  Cuban looked confused.

  "Well, I hope you got a description of the car?" she continued, trying to breathe life into the conversation.

  "Could have been anyone," Shona said flatly.

  There was a long pause as Chloe stood silently watching Shona pick bits of straw and wood out of her brush head.

  "OK, then…I won’t disturb you any longer. Have a good day, both of you."

  Chloe turned on her heels and headed back around the outside of the tool room and across to the main building. Shona slung the trash can over her shoulder, straining under its weight.

  "Did I miss something?" Cuban asked, scratching his head.

  "What?" Shona's tone was razor sharp. She stood toe to toe with him, pulling herself up to her full five foot seven height, her eyes blazing with raw emotion.

  "I just don't get you–" Cuban's frustration had boiled over now. "D’you know how many people here would kill for Miss Chloe to make time for them? Every guy in here dreams every night of that happening and she came over to us!"

  "You think it's a good idea for you to be seen talkin' to her? When every guy in here wants to beat you up for any reason they goddamn like! We gotta stay away from her and keep our goddamn necks off the block!" Tears welled up in Shona's furious eyes. There was a strangled pain in them that wrenched at Cuban's heart. He wanted to hug her but before he could move she stomped away towards the back door of the tool room and threw the trash can and broom against the wall.

  Cuban and Shona hardly spoke to each other for the rest of the day, apart from a cursory nod as they passed each other in the canteen. The atmosphere between them felt thick and heavy, their fledgling friendship fractured. Cuban, lost in his thoughts, was sitting on the floor in the garage when a familiar gravelly voice snapped him back to reality. He put down the oily rag he was cleaning engine parts with and looked up to see Kyle's leering face bearing down on him.

  "My car needs cleanin'. I gotta impress the ladies and I don't see why I should pay when I got a slave to do it for me for free, right? So when everybody goes home tonight, you come find me!" Kyle shrank down to his haunches. "Now, I'm sure I don't have to draw a picture of what happens if it's not all up to my very high standard, right?"

  "Yessir." Cuban looked down.

  "Good dog!" Kyle rose to his feet and strode away, the heels of his expensive black leather Oxfords scraping along the concrete.

  Cuban sighed, knowing it meant another night of having to walk back to the Birds' barn alone through the darkness. He would have to trudge through the fields instead of along the main road to make it harder for the truck that seemed to follow him home each time.

  They always seemed to know when he was leaving.

  It was just after 6 o'clock when Shona packed up her satchel to head home at the end of a long day. As she did every night, she went to find Cuban, who was cleaning out one of the trucks that was due to go out on an overnight delivery. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. Shona inched closer to him, worried that her outburst that morning had led to Cuban's misery. She felt bad; she hadn't meant to take her mood out on her friend.

  "Hey, you ready to go?" she asked tenderly.

  "I gotta stay."

  "Stay? How come?"

  "Just a job for Mr. Chambers."

  "I'll stay to help." She rested her satchel on the ground.

  "Go home. The simpler I keep things, the better."

  "He threatenin' you again?" Shona's face hardened.

  "Just leave it, Shona, for my sake. Please?"

  She gritted her teeth and nodded. Grabbing her satchel, she rested her hand on his shoulder, then turned to walk home.

  Half an hour later, after he had cleaned up his work area, Cuban headed up to Kyle's office and knocked on the door.

  "Yeah?"

  Cuban opened the door to find Kyle sitting behind his desk, a half-empty bottle in his hand. He was pouring another drink for himself and Deputy Paul who sat in the chair opposite him.

  "I heard you're cleaning Mr. Chambers's car, right?" His rancid breath prickled the inside of Cuban's nose. He nodded, turning away to avoid the stench. "Well, after that, you gon' do my car too. And you will polish it until you see your dirty black face in it or you do it again. Understand?" Deputy Paul grinned.

  "Here." Kyle threw his car keys at Cuban, who missed his catch. "You'd better get started. You don't wanna be here all night now!" he sniggered as he and Deputy Paul swigged their drinks, watching Cuban bend to his knees to retrieve the keys from the floor.

  Cuban had spent over an hour polishing the inside of Kyle's 1956 Continental Mark II when he noticed the driver's side door crammed full of old Lucky Strike packets, receipts and other junk.

  "Jeez, you'd think a man lucky enough to own a car like this would have the goddamn decency to look after it!" Cuban shook his head.

  Unsurprisingly, he found women's telephone numbers scribbled on scraps of paper. He discarded the trash but put the pieces of paper with the phone numbers in the glove box. As he did so, a scrunched-up letter fell out onto his lap. Unfolding it, he squinted his eyes to read the letterhead in the dim light of the garage. Realizing what he was reading, Cuban recoiled in surprise.

  In the top corner, he saw the company logo: one word printed in black slanted font against a yellow background.

  He read further down the letter to see Kyle's car registration details and two simple words written in dark red capital letters below.

  FINAL DEMAND.

  Chapter 34

  "Cuban!"

  "Miss Chloe," he replied, a little out of breath from lugging heavy trash bags to the trash cans the following morning.

  "I remember you saying that you'd like to read more? I've read these anyway and I thought you might like them?"

  Cuban's eyes were drawn downwards to the books Chloe held in her hands. A copy of The Catcher in the Rye stood out to him, its blunt edges showing the affection it had been held in over the years.

  "Miss Chloe. I can't accept these, I mean…I want to, but it's too much, too much." He waved his hands in protest, taken aback by Chloe's generosity.

  "Now hush your mouth. Take it as an order from your boss, then. I'm instructing you to have these books," she smiled.

  "Well, alright, how can I say no to that?" Cuban's face lit up.

  "Good! Let's see, here's one on Roosevelt," Chloe handed him a solid-looking hardback book. "Oh, and I though you might like Ellison's Invisible Man…and this is my latest favorite, On the Road by Kerouac. It's really good, only just co
me out, but I read it in a day!" she beamed.

  "My goodness, I can really have all these?" he said, feeling the weight of the books.

  "Of course, it would be my pleasure, Cuban."

  "Thank you so much, Miss Chloe." He held the books as if they were made of glass.

  "You're welcome. Anyway, I'd better go. I have a meeting in town with the delightful Mr. Johnson. Wish me luck!"

  "Good luck, but you won't need it, ma’am." Cuban tipped his cap as Chloe mouthed "Thank you" and left.

  As Cuban was reading the back of the books he had been given, Kyle was lurking just out of sight, fuming at the attention Chloe had given him.

  "Somebody's teacher's pet!" Shona strolled up to Cuban.

  "Can you believe it? How thoughtful is that lady!" he said, staring in Chloe's direction.

  "I guess."

  "Huh? That's one of the kindest damn things anyone has ever done for me. Well, apart from getting me a home and a job, that is."

  "I'm glad you remember that!" Shona playfully punched him on the arm.

  Cuban's smile faded as he spotted Kyle across the yard standing next to Chloe’s car. He frowned as Kyle opened the driver's side door for her, then subtly cocked his head to the side seeing her skirt ride up slightly as she climbed in.

  "Look at him. She's way too good for that nasty piece of trash. I hope she finds out what a goddamn dirty fraud he is."

  "What d'you mean?" Elbie wandered over.

  "I cleaned the son'bitch's car last night and found out he don't even own it! He’s up to his eyeballs in debt with it; it's a rental!"

  "What?" Shona screwed her face up.

  "Yep, there he was telling the boys he paid cash for it. Damn liar! She's so kind, I hope she don't get stuck with him. He'll be after her goddamn money for sure."