Emerald Springs

by Fleur McDonald

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she muttered, trying to pull herself together. But her mind went back to the night of the robbery. To the voices. Could one of them have been Paul? Could she have been completely wrong about him? She shook her head at herself.

  ‘You’re being crazy,’ she said, picking up Peanut and holding him close for comfort. ‘Really bloody stupid.’ She took a deep breath and buried her face in the tawny coat of the cat—then jumped at another crash of glass. Peanut leapt out of her arms and disappeared up the tree again, before remembering to look regal and haughtily staring out over the house.

  Another tradesman in standard uniform of steel-toed Mack boots, dusty navy shorts and a grey shirt walked outside, carrying one of the pantry doors over his shoulder. He threw it at the pile of debris that was building up, where it landed with a crunch. ‘You wouldn’t believe the number of rat nests we pulled out from in between the wall and cupboards,’ he said, wiping sweat from his brow.

  ‘Rats?’ Amelia shuddered, thinking of all the nights she’d spent in the house—and all the times she’d gone downstairs barefoot in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. ‘That’s seriously gross. Mice I can deal with.’

  ‘Yeah, a total infestation, complete with baby rats. Puss-cat got an early dinner. I’ve cleaned it all out now and plastered up where they were getting in. They were behind the oven as well. I tell you, these old farmhouses have got more holes and cavities in them than a piece of Swiss cheese.’

  ‘Swiss cheese?’ Amelia repeated faintly.

  ‘Reckon you’ll be real happy we’re pulling all this apart for you. I’m trying to get Paul to put insulation into the roof. With the amount of rodent shit and dirt up there, it’s a bloody wonder the ceiling hasn’t fallen in. Anyway, better get back to it.’ The tradie gave her a cheery grin and thumbs up before returning inside.

  She followed him. ‘Sorry, how much is this costing?’ she asked.

  He turned and tapped his nose. ‘Can’t tell you that, love, but won’t take long. Will get a bill to Paul after that.’

  ‘So you haven’t quoted on the job?’ Amelia couldn’t keep the anxiety out of her voice. Has Paul got no idea what it’s going to cost?

  ‘I guess the boss quoted, but I’m not involved in any of that. Just the hard labour!’ He pulled a hammer from his belt and began to tap at the other pantry door. It came off easily. ‘Anyway, if you ask me, you shouldn’t be worrying about this. Just enjoy it when it’s finished.’

  Amelia nodded and managed a smile. There was no reason to get on this man’s back. ‘Yeah, true enough. Good luck with it all! Thanks for the rat removal.’

  She went to sit in the car and wait for Paul.

  ‘You’re early!’ Paul pulled up next to her car and spoke through the window. ‘I wanted to see your face when you got a surprise. What do you think?’

  An hour of sitting, waiting and watching men pull apart the house, and replace it bit by bit, while she tried to work out where the money was coming from hadn’t improved her mood. These weren’t just the few small renos they’d been talking about, the ones he wouldn’t hear of her paying for. These were huge! The whole kitchen was being demolished and replaced.

  ‘I’m not sure what to think,’ she said stiffly. As she said it, she recognised her tone as the one Natalie used when picking a fight. Shit!

  Paul got out and opened the car door for her. She stood slowly, recoiling a little from his hug. He gave her a funny half-smile, his blue eyes puzzled, then shrugged and led the way inside. ‘So here’re my plans,’ he said, gesturing around. ‘A new kitchen. They’ve gutted the whole—’

  ‘Yeah, I can see that.’ Amelia said, arms crossed over her chest.

  He didn’t slow down. ‘And by making the lounge and kitchen open plan, you’ll be able to watch the kids while you’re cooking or whatever you’re up to.’

  Amelia listened as he talked excitedly and led her from room to room. A couple of times she couldn’t help but smile and get caught up in his enthusiasm, but then her fears would come crashing in like an icy shower.

  When Paul finally finished, he took her hand and led her back to the kitchen. At some point the tradies had called out good night and left. The room was covered in dust, and strangely silent. The dim glow from the bare light bulb left dark shadows in the corners that moved as the light fixture swung in the evening breeze.

  ‘So what do you reckon?’ Paul stood with his arms outstretched, looking proudly at Amelia.

  ‘It’s . . . very impressive.’

  ‘Oh, I forgot! Come with me.’ He took her hand and guided her outside, around to the back of the house. The lawn, which had been dead and brown most of the time she’d known him, was newly turfed, with a sprinkler set on it. ‘I’m trying to get it established before you move out here,’ he explained.

  She eyed the lawn, then him. ‘You’re putting in a lot of work.’

  ‘I want it to be as good as it can be. Here, sit down.’ He patted the space next to him on the large, smooth log that fenced the lawn, then when she sat down he put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. Amelia did her best not to stiffen.

  Her mind was whirling. Surely Brian’s will hadn’t held any extra money. Even if it had, there certainly wasn’t enough to cover the costs of all these renovations. Her fear and anxiety were heightened by the ache in her ribs and the bruises on her face. No matter how many times she told herself that it didn’t make any sense, that Paul wasn’t that good an actor—and anyway, if he was a criminal he wouldn’t be stupid enough to spend the money like this—her mind span back to the question of how the hell he’d got his hands on so much cash.

  Just ask him, she told herself firmly. You don’t have to imply anything. There must be a reasonable explanation, and knowing Paul he’ll tell you straight out.

  ‘Stay there,’ Paul instructed, oblivious to her tangled thoughts. ‘I’ve just got to get something from the ute.’ He jumped up and ran into the dusk.

  Amelia looked out over the brown paddocks, dotted with gumtrees and spiky bushes. This was her favourite view. It was where she’d put a patio, if she ever got that far. The land stretched off into the distance. Sheep grazed quietly. There was a chook pen in the house yard, along with a vegie patch—not that she particularly enjoyed gardening, but she liked the idea of growing fresh vegies and herbs to use in her cooking.

  Paul returned with a picnic basket in hand. He settled beside her and drew out a bottle of white wine and two glasses. Amelia held them while he poured.

  ‘So here’s to us,’ he said, raising his drink.

  ‘To us,’ Amelia repeated, and sipped the cool, crisp liquid.

  ‘And I’ve got more news!’

  Her eyes widened. ‘I can’t see how there could possibly be more!’

  ‘I’ve bought thirty White Suffolk stud ewes.’ The pleasure in his face was clear. ‘They’re in lamb to the ram that won at the Sydney Royal.’ He turned to her. ‘So I want to get a stud up and going. Sell the rams to the neighbours. Bit of extra pocket money. And it will be something we can do together.’ He turned back and looked out over his land.

  She watched as Paul surveyed his farm. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so satisfied or proud. It wasn’t, she thought, the face of a man who’d been involved with a robbery in which his fiancée got hurt. No, she’d been worrying over nothing. Her heartbeat started to calm and she took some slow breaths. She’d check with him to see where the money had come from, that was all.

  Peanut appeared and jumped onto the log, curling up beside Paul. He scratched the cat under the chin, and Amelia listened as the power-motor purr kicked in, before returning her gaze to the pasture.

  ‘Milly,’ Paul said softly. ‘I know I’ve asked you before, but will you marry me?’

  When she turned to look at him, he was holding out a small maroon box, its lid popped open so she could see the solitaire diamond ring sitting on a plush bed of dark red velvet. The style was vintage, with a del
icate engraving around the gold band, and four smaller diamonds elegantly setting off the main stone.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, her hand involuntarily pressed to her mouth. ‘Wow.’

  Paul gazed at her intently as he asked, ‘So will you?’

  ‘I want to,’ Amelia breathed as she reached to touch the ring.

  Paul leaned back. ‘But?’

  Pulling her hand back, Amelia stared at the ring for a moment longer, then at Paul. The words rushed out. ‘But where did all this money come from? You didn’t have anything and now suddenly you’re getting the house almost rebuilt. And this ring! What’s going on?’

  When Paul turned red and looked very uncomfortable, alarm bells sounded in her mind. ‘I don’t really want to get into that now, all right?’

  ‘Well, I do. Come on, Paul, you’ve got to tell me. Now.’

  She watched his expression as her words sank in. He snapped the ring box closed and shot to his feet. Peanut also shot up, yowling and darting off into the night. ‘What do you mean?’

  She bit her tongue, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘You think I was involved in the robbery? What the fuck, Milly? It was bad enough that the bloody detective came out here yesterday to ask questions!’ Paul stalked towards the house.

  ‘No! No, I’m not saying that.’ Amelia stood and tried to follow him as he backed away from her. Why hadn’t she kept her bloody mouth shut? ‘No, that’s not what I mean . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘But it is, isn’t it?’ Paul shook his head. ‘Everything I’m doing here is for you. How the hell could you even think that?’

  He turned on his heel and stormed off. No matter how hard she tried to force herself, she couldn’t follow. Within moments, the sound of his ute roared to life and she heard the spray of gravel as he span his wheels.

  Chapter 21

  ‘Savannah! Hey, Sav!’ Amelia ran across the road to catch up with her friend, who was going for her early morning jog. Breathless by the time she grabbed Sav’s arm, Amelia gasped, ‘Didn’t you hear me?’

  ‘Oh hey, Milly. No, sorry. In my own little world. Got to keep moving. I’m late for school.’

  ‘Oh right.’ Amelia was crestfallen for a moment. She’d desperately wanted to have a coffee and talk about what had happened with Paul the night before. ‘What about lunch, are you free?’

  Sav narrowed her eyes and pulled back as if something had bitten her. ‘No, sorry. I’m on lunch duty. But I’ll give you a ring tomorrow when things are a bit calmer.’ She checked her watch and jogged off towards the school. ‘Are you feeling all right?’ she called back over her shoulder.

  ‘Yeah, fine. Thanks for asking.’ Amelia stood on the footpath for a long time after Sav had disappeared, bewildered. Maybe she’s really just having a bad day.

  With a shrug, Amelia headed through the sunlit streets to Kim’s roadhouse and went into the kitchen. ‘Hey, Aunty Kim!’

  ‘Oh hi, sweetie.’ Kim’s face was red and her dark hair limp with sweat as she put in another batch of chips. A great cloud of steam rose. ‘Getting ready for the lunchtime rush,’ she called over the noise, which put paid to conversation for a while.

  Amelia nodded and began to arrange paper buckets on the bench so they’d be ready when Kim needed them. Soon they were all filled with golden fingers of potato.

  ‘You okay?’ Kim asked as she shook salt over the chips, then shook the containers so the grains trickled down.

  Amelia shrugged. ‘Not really.’

  Setting a container down, Kim looked at her. ‘Well, what’s going on?’

  ‘Oh.’ Amelia waved her hands around, not sure where to start. ‘Paul is renovating the house.’

  Kim beamed. ‘That’s fabulous, sweetie! You must be so happy!’ Then her smile fell. ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, yeah, I would be . . . but how is he paying for all of this? He had to scrimp and save to put the new loo in, and now there’s this huge reno happening! And it’s not on the cheap, either: they’ve pulled the whole kitchen out and replaced it, as well as putting new tin on the roof.’ She rubbed her hands across her face. ‘He has a diamond engagement ring, too. Suddenly he’s all cashed up. And when I asked him about it, he didn’t want to explain.’

  Kim crossed her arms. ‘I think you’d better start at the beginning.’

  Amelia took a deep breath and repeated everything that had happened out at Eastern Edge.

  ‘So, do you really think he was involved?’ Kim asked, a strange expression on her face. ‘Because if you do, you should report it to Dave.’

  Dob Paul in to the cops? Amelia’s stomach twisted up in knots. ‘No, the thing is, I don’t. Not really. I mean, I trust Paul, but I just can’t work out how he’s funding everything.’ She bit her bottom lip. ‘Paul loves me. He wouldn’t put me in a situation where I’d get hurt or have people thinking I’d done something wrong.’ She slumped against a bench, feeling absolutely miserable. Would he?

  ‘Sweetie, I hate to be the one who tells you, but you’re not the first person to have thought of this. I’ve heard talk around town. Everyone knows that Paul’s on the bones of his arse—you know he was really lucky not to have the farm sold out from under him when his father drank himself to death.’ She stroked Amelia’s hair.

  ‘But Paul wouldn’t hurt me.’

  ‘I don’t think he would either, but maybe he got involved with someone dangerous. Maybe he got in too deep, love.’

  Amelia stared straight ahead, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said and scrambled to her feet. She ran out the door before Kim could offer another word.

  Amelia had to get to Emerald Springs. It was a long and hard walk from where she’d left the car, longer than she’d done since getting out of hospital, but it was the only place that would calm her down and give her some peace of mind. The only place where she’d be able to think clearly. She moved gingerly, trying not to jar her ribs as she started on the uphill hike. As she walked, she found it hard to keep her anxious thoughts at bay—she just didn’t have the energy. Fears and suspicions accosted her, but she forced herself to keep going.

  Forty minutes later—a bit longer than it usually took her—she was pleased to kick her shoes off and sink her bare feet into the sand. Lying on her back on the little beach, she closed her eyes and listened to birds flitting from tree to tree, the sounds of their wings seeming so close to her ears. Her fingers ran through the sand as she moved her arms up and down in a soothing motion. Tears spilled out of her eyes and for a while she let them fall.

  She kept thinking about the things her friends had told her at the hospital, about the gossip around town. Chelle had said no one was taking it seriously, and not to let it bring her down, but she’d had the most terrible thought. If Dave was harping on about her finances and asking her about Paul, where was he coming from? Maybe he’d heard the talk around town. The more she considered it, the more it made sense.

  Everything Paul had set in motion would appear to have been made possible by ill-gotten gains—if the thought had occurred to Amelia, it would definitely have occurred to others! And if people in Torrica believed that Paul had something to do with the robbery, then it would stand to reason they’d assume Amelia was involved, too. As far as they were concerned, she would benefit from the theft.

  So did Sav think that? Was that why she’d been so strange and distant? Amelia pushed the idea away.

  What could she possibly do to clear their names? She sighed, rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin on her fists. She gazed at the deep water while a willy wagtail jumped around the edge of the pool, chattering and preening.

  ‘Am I interrupting your swim?’ Amelia asked quietly.

  Chat, chat, chat, the wagtail answered, his backside wagging from side to side as he eyed her still form.

  Feeling a bit more serene, Amelia sat up and looked around, then closed her eyes and let her head drop to her knees. But she still wasn’t completely comfo
rtable, not like she usually was here. Her eyes snapped open. Something wasn’t right.

  She peered around again, her gaze roaming over the bush near the wagtail. The branches were broken, as if something or someone had crashed through. Getting to her feet, she went across to the other side of the pool—the wagtail hopping away from her—and looked closely at the disturbed foliage. She examined the ground for kangaroo or emu tracks, but there was nothing obvious in the churned dirt.

  A shiver ran down her spine, cold radiating out and covering her body in spite of the heat. For a moment she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but then she realised: it felt as though she was being watched. She swallowed hard, trying to push her fear down, and scanned from side to side, slowly.

  The birds kept singing and a gentle breeze blew, making the water ripple and shimmer. There was nothing else. Nothing that she could pick up on, anyway.

  You’re losing it. No one else was here; she was the only one who made the trek anymore. She hated that these irrational fears were haunting her here, in her safe, special place. Shaking her head and shoving all her thoughts aside, Amelia sat on the edge of the pool and dangled her feet in the water.

  Once again she thought about the night of the rodeo, trying to relax her mind and hoping that, this time, something jumped out at her. She took deep breaths, remembering Chrissie’s calm voice as she’d talked her through the process, not trying to grab at anything. There was something—something in the depths of her memories that she still hadn’t quite caught. Something important. Unbidden, recollections of the man’s hands hard and insistent against her shirt engulfed her.

  ‘No,’ she muttered. ‘No. Just go away. I want to remember everything but that.’