“Sim?”
“Portuguese word for yes.”
“What makes you think I’ve had it tough?”
“I can see it in your eyes. And you’re so private. Hayley has told me some things about her life and family, but I haven’t heard you say a peep about any of that.”
Gemma’s head was starting to ache now, the drugs and alcohol she’d had making her feel unsteady. She didn’t like talking about them—her family. Or her life. She’d been hoping to start again here, fresh. As if her old life never existed.
Ellie’s fingers trembled suddenly as she threaded her hands together. “Gemma, I shouldn’t tell you this. But I’ll feel bad if I don’t. If you've had a hard life then you deserve some happiness. If I were you, I’d leave the farm. You and Hayley. It’s your first week here, and it’s easy to leave now.”
Gemma’s brow tightened. The sudden turn of conversation confused her. Had she heard right? “Why would we want to leave?”
Ellie hushed her voice, eyes darting about to see if anyone was listening. “This farm isn’t what you think it is. Nothing here is what you think it is.”
“You don’t like me much, do you? From the minute I stepped foot on this farm, I could tell.”
“No, Gemma. It’s not like that. Please—”
Gemma spun around and walked away. She wasn’t going to listen to that any longer. For the briefest of moments, she’d let herself believe that Ellie cared. But it had just been a ruse. She didn’t care. She was just like everyone else in Gemma’s life who hadn’t cared.
A small, sharp stone dug into the flesh beneath her sandal. Stepping behind a palm tree, she leaned her back against it and dug the stone out. That stone is you, Ellie.
Clay and Eoin came jogging from the opposite direction. She was about to step out and join them when they ran straight up to Ellie.
None of them could see Gemma where she was now, in the middle of the thick clump of palm trees. She decided to stay and listen.
“Where’s Hayley?” Eoin demanded. “You’re supposed to be watching her.”
“She’s fine,” Ellie said defensively. “I am watching her. She’s in the fields with Tate. You’re supposed to be watching her with me. You don’t seem to be doing a good job of that.”
“I was busy indoctrinating the new chick from the harvest.” Eoin shrugged, exhaling loudly.
“He didn’t do a good job of that, either,” Clay joked at Eoin then grew serious. “Freddy was meant to be watching Gemma, but we just found him passed out drunk in the field. Hope the snakes get him, the fat fuck.”
“What about you?” Ellie said. “Aren’t both you and Fred assigned to Gemma?”
“Yeah.” Clay shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I’ve got other stuff to do tonight. We’re waiting on a delivery.”
Gemma listened, incensed. Why were they watching her and Hayley? Who asked them to do that? She eyed the two-way radios that the three of them wore clipped to their belts. She guessed that they used those to keep track of the new workers at the farm.
“Anyway,” Clay continued, “Gemma seems happy. I was just with her at the party.”
“Did you race her off for a quickie?” Eoin asked.
Clay frowned. “Nope. She looked like she’d taken something.”
“All the more reason.” Eoin waggled his eyebrows.
Shaking his head, Clay groaned. “You’re a deviant.”
Eoin grinned. “Wait.” Ellie’s voice sounded tense and shivery. “That delivery guy is coming here now?”
“Yep,” Eoin told her, seeming oblivious to her frightened tone. “Rodney’s dropping off some chemicals and other stuff.”
“I’m heading back to the party. Hayley’s okay. She’s with Tate. I’ll look out for Gemma too.” Ellie started to walk.
“Just a minute.” Eoin reached to grab her wrist. “You’re scared of the delivery guy, aren’t you?”
“No. I’m not scared of him.” Despite Ellie’s denial, it was obvious to Gemma that she was.
Eoin peered closely at Ellie’s face. “Something’s wrong here. We’re going to have to tell Tate.”
“You don’t need to tell Tate anything. So, don’t,” said Ellie quickly.
“Actually, you look like you’ve been crying.” Eoin rummaged in Ellie’s pocket and pulled out her phone. “Well, this is trouble. Thought I could see something in there.”
“We’re allowed to call home sometimes,” Ellie said rigidly.
Eoin made a whistling sound through his teeth. “Yeah, when Tate says so. Once a month, when we’re all together at Monday meditation.” He pushed the phone into his own pocket.
The headlights of a small truck flashed at the top of the farm’s driveway, just beyond the gate.
Clay nudged Eoin. “Leave Ells alone. Anyway, we gotta go.”
Eoin jabbed a finger in the air at Ellie before heading off with Clay. “I’m keeping an eye on you.”
Eoin and Clay headed off towards the gate while Ellie continued on her way back to the house.
There was no way Gemma wanted to return to the party now. Clay wouldn’t be there, and Ellie would be watching her—for some crazy reason that Gemma didn’t understand. And the conversation between the three of them had been damned strange. So, Clay had only been cosying up to her because he was supposed to be? Like he’d been assigned to her or something?
The mix of foods she’d eaten earlier at the party rolled in her stomach until she wanted to vomit.
Everything had seemed good—stupidly glorious even—just minutes ago. Now it was all lying in a big stinking ruin.
Gemma remained where she was, looking on as Clay and Eoin unloaded boxes from the truck in the distance, carrying the goods into a large supply shed. She could only see a silhouette of the truck driver. What had he done to make Ellie so afraid of him? Maybe she’d been a bitch to him and he’d retaliated. Yeah, that made sense. She could be pretty snippy.
Gemma decided to go and confront Clay—let out the anger that was now lying low in her belly.
Gemma crossed the grounds, stopping just behind one of the farm’s many SUV vehicles that were parked up near the gate. She still couldn't see the driver clearly. But she could hear him, speaking in low tones to Clay. Eoin had stepped away and was talking into his two-way radio.
“Make sure you stack these carefully,” the driver warned. “It's chemicals in glass vials. They'll smash like a china shop if you drop them.”
“Keep your hat on, Rodney,” Clay told him. “We’ll be careful. Hey, one of the farm's supervisors seems to have a problem with you. Ellie. What's that about?”
Rodney paused with a box in his arms. “Mate, that's none of your business. Drop it.”
Clay didn't drop it. “She seems pretty cut up. I'm going to let Tate know.”
Placing the box on the ground, the man advanced towards Clay. “I'll tell him myself. Nothing happened. She's just a hysterical kid.”
Clay stood his ground. “What the hell do you do on the farm, anyway—apart from the deliveries? You're always coming here at odd hours. I see you sneaking around the grounds at night. Does Tate even know about that?”
Rodney clutched Clay’s shoulder. “What I do around here is between Tate and me. Even he doesn't know everything that I do. And that's the way it's going to stay. If you get in my way, then things are not going to go well for you.”
The cold, menacing tone in the man's voice made a shiver rain down Gemma’s back.
Eoin moved in between the driver and Clay. “Clay, lad, maybe you should back off.”
Gemma glanced behind her. Hayley came walking out of the fields, her blond hair lifting in the light breeze. Gemma decided to head her off and make sure she stayed well away from the strange delivery driver.
Staying out of sight of the three men, Gemma slipped past the supply sheds and met up with Hayley.
Hayley’s eyes held a contented kind of sheen in them, her cheeks glowing. “I was just with—”
“I know. You were with Tate.”
“Why aren’t you at the party?”
“Why aren’t you?” Gemma felt nothing but lost and irritated now. She wished she’d been the one waltzing about the fields with Tate and didn’t hear all that she’d just heard. The night had gone from bad to worse.
Hayley sounded deflated when she said, “I was hoping you were having a good time. Sounds like you weren’t.”
“No, I'm not.”
“Come and dance with me at the party. Let’s have some fun. I’m not ready to go to bed.”
“You do what you want. I'm heading off to the cabin. But don't wander around the grounds. Someone just said they saw a red-bellied black snake up that way.” She pointed in the direction of the driver and his van.
Hayley shuddered. “Ugh. Yeah, I'll stay at the party.”
She debated whether to tell Hayley about what she’d just heard Clay and Eoin say. If she told her, Hayley might freak and want to leave the next day. And she didn’t want that. She had no money and nowhere to go.
Gemma and Hayley looked up abruptly at the house as two figures walked up the stairway. Through the all-glass frontage of the three-storey mansion, it was easy to see that the pair were Tate and Ellie.
Tate led Ellie inside a thick white door at the top of the stairs and closed the door behind them.
Inhaling sharply, Gemma crossed her arms. Was Ellie sleeping with Tate? Of course she was. What else would they be doing in that room together? All of that nonsense with Ellie looking shy and embarrassed in her skanky red bikini today was just that—nonsense. And all that stuff about her being scared of the delivery guy was just Ellie trying to cover up her affair with Tate.
Gemma knew exactly what Ellie was now.
A conniving, lying little snake.
Ellie had told Hayley and herself about the venomous snakes here on the first day they’d arrived—but Ellie was the real snake they should be looking out for.
Now Gemma knew how Ellie had scored a cushy job as a farm supervisor. She’d been throwing herself at Tate.
20
Hayley
She woke with a headache that seemed to radiate from the back of her skull until it settled behind her eyes into a dull, thudding ache. What had happened after Gemma had left the party? It was blurry now. She’d obviously drunk too much and blacked out, but she knew she hadn’t been drinking a lot at the beginning of the party. Why did she drink so much in the end?
What an idiot. Her mouth was dry as a bone, fuzzy, and tasted like stale beer. And in this heat? She was going to wilt. Or puke. Probably both.
Gemma was gone, and Hayley realised that she’d slept in later than usual. It was Saturday, and Hayley wasn’t sure whether she’d be mango picking today or not. Did they work weekends here? She cast her mind back to her first day but couldn’t remember.
Gently, very gently, she swung her legs out from the bed and sat upright, with her head spinning and her stomach lurching. When she rubbed her eyes, last night’s mascara coated her fingers. It was all over her pillowcase too.
What happened after Gemma left?
She remembered getting a drink. After her long chat with Tate, she had been in a good mood, and she wanted to dance for a while. At this point she was mostly sober and a little afraid of the writhing bodies that had broken away from the others. She saw several people in varying stages of undress at different places in the fields and quickly glanced away. But instead of her feeling like a prude, she found it kind of funny and adventurous. Like the holiday feeling people get away from home, more likely to throw caution to the wind. Maybe it was like that. Maybe that was why she’d started drinking more than usual. And then headed to the dancefloor…
There was a guy in a tropical shirt. She’d danced with him for a while. Eoin had tried grinding against her, and she thought he’d given her a drink.
How long had the party gone on for?
She glanced down at her body. She was still dressed in the clothes she wore to the party. After closing her eyes for a few moments, the room finally calmed, and she felt a little better. Her head still ached so badly she felt like there was a drill boring through her skull, but she was at least able to get her makeup bag and begin removing her eye makeup.
Halfway through the second eye, there was a knock on the door.
“Yeah?” Hayley croaked. She barely bothered to straighten herself up, expecting Ellie to step through the door. But to her surprise, it was Eoin.
“Morning, lush.” He grinned at her. “Feeling spritely this morning by the look of ya.”
Hayley just groaned. “What time did I leave last night?”
“Oh, I dunno,” he replied. “But I think the morning birds were singing. I had no idea you were such a party animal.”
“I’m not.” Hayley pulled the duvet around her protectively, hiding her crumpled dress.
“Well, whatever. You’ll have to pull yourself together, I’m afraid. The boss wants to see you.”
“Tate?” Despite the awful hangover, she felt her mood brighten and her back straighten in surprise.
“He wants to show you his greenhouse. If I were you, I’d down some coffee, boot, and rally.” He cringed. “Maybe not in that order. And have a shower, yeah? I’ll meet you near the food hall and take you across.”
An hour later, Hayley had not booted, but she had managed to keep down a breakfast of dry toast and a large cup of coffee, showered thoroughly, and applied foundation to hide her dark circles. There was still no sign of Gemma. Maybe she’d gone for a walk to clear her head. Hayley remembered Gemma seeming a bit drunk and emotional before she’d left the party. And then… oh, of course! They’d seen Ellie walking up to the farm with Tate.
Hayley’s shoulders slumped. She’d forgotten all about that. Maybe seeing Ellie with Tate was the reason why she’d started drinking so much after Gemma left. Perhaps it was irrational to think this, but after her walk with Tate, she’d felt a definite connection and had hoped it was romantic. But if Ellie was with Tate, she must have misread the signs.
No, surely not. She couldn’t imagine Tate with a girl like Ellie. Ellie was a little… off? A little odd. Immature, maybe. And Tate was so sophisticated and together. No. It wasn’t possible.
But why else would Ellie be with him late at night?
As she came out of the food hall, Eoin nodded to her, and then his eyes roamed over her body.
“Looking better already,” Eoin said, his grin lopsided and mischievous. “I’ll take you up to see the boss.”
Hayley flanked his right as they made their way through the compound to the mansion. On the way she couldn’t help searching for Gemma, worried that she’d upset her somehow during the party last night.
“Have you seen Gemma this morning?”
Eoin shrugged. “A bunch of people went to check out the springs this morning. Maybe she went with them. I saw one ute heading to the town too.”
Well, if Gemma went with them, at least she wouldn’t be on her own. “How long have you been here, exactly?” Hayley asked, trying to pass the time.
“Six months or so.”
“Don’t you miss home?”
“Nah. Here’s much better. Decent craic, good people, good food. And then there’s the girls… Well.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “We have a laugh here. It’s more relaxed. I actually moved to London to work in a bank before I went travelling. To be honest with you, I was sick of England, even sick of Ireland. Sick of the traffic, the people, the way everyone is so fucking uptight. You don’t need to worry about any of that here.”
“And Tate? Do you know him well?”
“About as well as everyone else.” Eoin directed them through the carpark towards the farm where the long greenhouse was adjacent to the glass walls of the house. “He mostly keeps himself to himself. Apart from during the meditations.”
“What are those about?”
“Mindfulness mainly. I don’t think I have the words to e
xplain it,” he said. “But I feel better after them.”
Hayley frowned, wondering what better meant. Better wasn’t good, or amazing, or brilliant. It was just better. Better than what?
“Here. Just through that door. Don’t touch any of the orchids. Seriously.” Eoin nodded and raised his eyebrows to show just how serious he was, before he turned around and walked away, not giving Hayley an opportunity for any more questions.
It sounded like Tate was pretty intense about these orchids. Eoin’s warning had spooked her a little, unless it was the hangover paranoia creeping in. As she opened the door, she had nerves bouncing around her belly and her mouth had gone dry again.
The scent of the orchids was like spiced vanilla and cinnamon, but with a subtle, floral note to it. They were in rows atop trolleys, with a watering system rigged above them, colourful and bright against the glass and chrome of the rest of the greenhouse. Back in York her mother had been given an orchid from a friend, but it’d wilted and died quite quickly after her mother failed to look after it properly. All Hayley remembered of that plant was its strange little bud at the centre of the petals. A little button on its face, like a nose.
She dared not touch, but she did lean in for a closer inspection. Red, pink, white, yellow… They each had a separate scent too.
“I wish I had a camera,” said a low, silky voice.
She hadn’t heard anyone approach, and the sudden sound of Tate’s voice seemed discordant in the echoing space.
“What?” Her jaw fell open, and she felt stupid. Her face flushed with heat, and she longed for the ground to swallow her whole.
Tate took a step towards her, with his hands pushed deep into his pockets, his shoulders relaxed. He was just as suave and smart as last night, in a light-blue shirt and grey trousers. Despite the hot day he appeared cool and collected, whereas Hayley could feel her hair sticking to her neck with sweat.
“I said, I wish I had a camera. Because the image of you witnessing this greenhouse for the first time is beautiful.”
Poison Orchids: A darkly compelling psychological thriller Page 15
