by Jennie Jones
Gosh, she was so gung-ho about it all.
Their father had been with her when she’d been thrown from her horse and he’d called for emergency medical transport. Hours after the fall, with Viv in agony and her left foot splayed at an obscene angle and massively swollen, they got her to hospital in Canberra. After lots of painkillers, an X-ray and a realignment of her ankle, Viv was told she’d fractured the tibia and fibula in her left leg in several places. She now sported a plate and eleven screws beneath that space-age boot. Her right leg also got bashed but not broken, and the gash had mended now. She’d tried crutches but the pain was too much and Sammy insisted on a wheelchair.
‘Does it still hurt terribly?’ Edie asked, nodding at the space-boot.
‘Terribly,’ Viv said, wheeling herself backwards out of the room. ‘Hey, watch this! I just learned how to do it.’
She spun the chair so fast the rubber wheels squeaked on the polished wooden floorboards.
‘Vivian Granger!’ Sammy said. ‘I spent a whole day last week polishing that floor. Remember who helps you in and out of the shower.’
‘Sorry, Mum.’ A horn tooted outside. ‘That’s my lift. Catch you later, Granger women.’
Viv had already wheeled herself down the hall before Edie had a chance to say goodbye. The front door opened and Viv’s friends’ laughter bubbled with excitement as they argued about who was taking the wheelchair and who was helping Viv into the car.
‘I was going to keep her company,’ Edie said, trying not to allow disappointment to show on her face.
‘She’s hardly home,’ Sammy said. ‘She’s always out with her gang.’
If Edie was going to stay in Swallow’s Fall for the rest of her life—which might happen if Marcus had his way—she’d need a gang too.
‘Are you all right, darling?’ Sammy asked.
‘I’m fine. Dukey-Three!’ Edie said, turning from her mother’s scrutiny and holding her arms out to the cat who’d slunk in from the hall. His official name was The Duke of Burra. A kitten who was going to grow into a big ginger devil just like his dad and his grandfather.
Dukey-Three ignored her, rubbed his body against Sammy’s shins, then sauntered off to find a warm place by the window where the sun shone on the floor.
With her dad being a vet, animals had been a big part of Edie’s world. Everything in her life was here—all the memories and ties of being part of a family. Everything around her was such a comfort. Except she couldn’t shake the feeling that had taken hold of her this last month since she’d come home. That she’d lost something. Like her persona. It was probably because of everything Marcus had thrown her way. Or perhaps she’d been away so long, apart from flying visits, that she’d missed all the little but important things that had happened to people here.
If Viv was going to keep knocking back Edie’s offer of a hand—not a heavy hand, like Ryan had said—she’d best look up some of her old school pals. She’d kept in touch with Olivia Bradford, who worked for her parents at Kookaburra’s hotel, but everybody else had more or less moved on, or got married and were busy with babies and husbands.
She walked back to the dining table.
‘How many scenery flats do you want me to help paint?’ her mother asked, sitting at the table next to Edie.
‘None. I’ll ask Gemma.’
‘Why don’t you want me to help?’
‘Because you’re busy with Viv.’
Sammy indicated the door with a wave of her hand. ‘You just saw how much I’m needed,’ she said with an amused smile. ‘So I do have time.’
Edie relented. ‘Okay. Thanks, Mum.’
Sammy looked at the door again. ‘Where’s your chauffeur?’
Edie frowned.
‘Ryan.’
‘He’s not my chauffeur,’ Edie exclaimed. ‘I don’t expect him to run me around. Is he saying I’m using him as my chauffeur?’ Maybe that’s where he got the idea she was holding him in contempt.
‘He doesn’t say anything about you, darling. He follows you around and does your bidding.’
‘I don’t make him do things for me. He says he wants to.’
‘How’s he getting on in the back bedroom? It’s the smallest room in Jindalee House. I don’t know why he chose that one.’
Edie’s chest tightened. ‘He moved out. He’s living in the barn.’
Sammy’s eyes widened. ‘Why would he move out?’
Edie shrugged. ‘No idea.’ She refrained from telling her mother he moved out of the house ten minutes after she moved in. ‘Perhaps he likes his privacy.’
Sammy scrunched her face in contemplation. ‘Bit odd that he suddenly arrived in town a week after learning you’d come home.’
Learning she’d come home? Hadn’t he just arrived out of—‘Coincidence,’ Edie said. ‘He’s visited Gemma heaps of times.’
‘He’s here to check you out.’
Edie sat back. ‘Stop,’ she said, showing her mother the palm of her hand.
Sammy smiled, her eyes twinkling.
Her mum had always teased her about Ryan, but after the incident on the walkway, Sammy had found Edie in floods of tears in her bedroom, and had recognised Edie’s challenged love for Ryan. They didn’t speak of it but her mum’s thoughts and hopes for her daughter were always in her eyes whenever she happened to say, ‘Heard from Ryan?’
Edie hadn’t heard from him after the icy disaster. Although one time she thought she spotted him in the audience of a play she was doing. The man, head and shoulders higher than those in the seats around him, looked so like Ryan, even in silhouette since the house lights were dimmed, she almost forgot her line.
‘So what shall we do?’ Sammy asked. ‘Now that Viv doesn’t need us?’
‘Actually, Mum, could you give me a lift into town?’
‘What do you need from town?’
‘Angels,’ Edie said, finding a smile.
Her mother gave her a rueful look. ‘Dad said the committee wasn’t exactly helpful with your proposal last night.’
‘I didn’t approach them in the best way. I need to take a firmer hand.’
‘Be careful with your firm hand.’
‘I’m only asking for volunteers—not financial backing.’ Angel was a term they all used in the theatre. Not that many of the wealthy individuals who put up money for theatrical productions were in any way angelic. They were canny businessmen. Without their backing a lot of shows would have gone dark before the first rehearsal.
‘Just remember,’ Sammy said with a knowing smile, ‘that some of the angels in Swallow’s Fall can occasionally seem like a demonically possessed, interfering mob.’
Edie laughed. Didn’t she know it.
‘How are you getting back to Jindalee House from town?’ Sammy asked.
‘Ryan said he’d meet me at Kookaburra’s.’
‘So he is following your every move.’
‘Mum. Stop. I’m a career woman. Driven by my desire to show myself independent yet capable of utilising my feministic virtues while remaining wholly a woman.’
Sammy slapped her hands on her thighs. ‘Of course you are, darling. But my money’s on the checking you out scenario.’ She stood. ‘Come on, Dazzlepants, I’ll run you into town.’
Edie groaned. Was this moniker going to follow her around for the rest of her life?
She packed her messenger bag then followed her mum down the hallway, her thoughts back to Ryan.
Maybe she ought to buy a car. She lived in cities, or was on tour; she’d had no need of a car until now. It would make her appear more independent than she currently felt and it would ensure Ryan didn’t feel beholden to drive her around. She could rekindle her friendship with Olivia Bradford again too, without having to ask for a lift.
What she needed was some conviviality before deciding what her future held. Please let it be a good future. It all depended on how far Marcus would go and whether he intended to destroy her.
4
The Ange
ls
Sammy dropped Edie off near the southern end of town after Edie said she’d pop into Grandy Morelly’s old house where Josh and Gemma now lived. Josh was good to her in a big-brotherly way and she wanted to ask if he’d lend her a horse for Act II. Plus, she wanted to see if he would play the part of the simpleton groom. She needed someone strong for that part. She might not mention the word ‘simpleton’ when she talked to him about it, though.
But Josh wasn’t home. He’d either be in town at Cuddly Bear Toy & Gift Shop with his wife or at his agistment and riding centre.
She looked up at the population sign as she walked into town, and smiled fondly. The iron chain holding the sign creaked above her head as a gentle wind from the hillside on the east sent a draught of spring freshness over the multicoloured rooftops of Swallow’s Fall.
Her mother had been the first person in years to necessitate the change on the population sign: 86 to 87. With the development of the new housing estate twenty kilometres away, known as the village, the district’s population was now a staggering 182.
Edie waved to Ted Tillman who was outside Mrs Tam’s library stocking up the ice-cream van. He wouldn’t see the wariness in her cheery smile because she was in acting-mode, but she didn’t miss the disgruntled humour in his frown.
At least Ted was kept busy since he’d bought the ice-cream van on the cheap from an insolvent company in Cooma and started his own business. According to her mum he’d been a nightmare to deal with after selling the stock feeders. He’d only had the committee to occupy him and had driven people mad with his many ideas. He sold the stock feeders to Gary Waterman, a young man who fitted in nicely, since Gary was the kind who didn’t need much entertainment. He was so much a Swallow’s Fall type that even the town committee accepted him after his only being here a year. It could take up to twenty years for that to happen to blow-ins.
‘Off to the village, Ted?’ she asked, not wanting to appear anything other than Edie the townsperson, not Edie the vampire who’d refused to give Ted the part of detective in the play.
‘I’ve got a ten o’clock round then a two o’clock round, as usual,’ Ted said. ‘Then an evening round. You should know my schedule, so why ask?’
She threw him an acknowledging smile and walked on. She should have known that in school holidays he drove the ice-cream van more than usual, but she hadn’t given it any thought. She breathed deeply and put on her producer’s smile—the extra friendly one—when she caught sight of Mrs Tam talking to Ada Ormond.
Mrs Tam, famous years ago for her homemade ice-cream, had come out of retirement from running the petrol station and then the Chinese takeaway and put her volunteering efforts into the small library. It hadn’t been enough to keep her going in the companionship area—she was so sweet and good-natured and wanted to be more useful around town. So she’d started her ice-cream making again and gone into business with Ted.
Such an unexpected arrangement, but it was keeping Mrs Tam fulfilled and Ted off the streets.
Edie marched down Main Street, a spring in her step as she headed towards the pioneer cemetery where the ladies were chatting.
‘Morning, Gary,’ she called as she slapped the big old plastic horse chained up outside the stock feeders. Ted had been maudlin for weeks after selling his oversized plastic horse along with the business, but it was such a feature in town, he’d had to do it.
‘Mornin’, Edie,’ Gary Waterman said, getting pucer in the face as he gazed at her with wide eyes. The flush mottled his strong neck and must be sinking below his flannel shirt to his robust chest. In some ways Gary was a younger version of Ted, only much more pleasant.
‘How’s Ryan?’ he asked, his broom handle clutched in his football-sized hands as though he were holding himself back from making a dash for her.
‘He’s okay,’ Edie said but didn’t stop. Gary liked her, which was amusing and a little flattering but heading nowhere, and she had to make him understand this.
She stopped beside Mrs Tam and old Ornery. ‘Morning, ladies. What a glorious day.’
The white bunting on the fence of the pioneer cemetery wafted in the light wind. There’d been bunting on the fence all Edie’s life and before that.
‘Isn’t it a stunner,’ Mrs Tam said. ‘How’s Ryan?’
Edie stalled at the unexpected question. ‘He’s fine.’
Mrs Tam peered down the street. ‘I don’t see him.’
‘He’s at the house.’ Did everyone notice that whenever Edie was in town, except for today, he was too? She had to buy a car.
‘So lovely that you’ve come home, Edie,’ Mrs Tam said. ‘Putting some sparkle back into the old town.’
‘So are you staying?’ Mrs Ormond asked with a puckered brow.
‘Well, actually—’ Edie halted. She didn’t want anyone to think she was blowing in, taking over the town hall chairs for her auditorium then breezing out again, but how to explain she probably wasn’t staying?
‘You know, Ada,’ Mrs Tam said. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had something so glamorous on my social calendar. I’m thinking of getting my thirtieth wedding anniversary suit out. It’ll just need letting out at the seams. What are you wearing to the opening night?’
‘I’ve got a hat in mind.’
Edie had to smile. Please don’t let Ornery come in only a hat …
‘Mrs Tam,’ she said. ‘I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping out with the production and maybe giving some of your time to selling programmes each night?’ The play was only going to run for a week—in case it went bung and nobody came after opening night.
‘I’d be thrilled!’ Mrs Tam said, looking charmed and bemused all at once. ‘How exciting. What about bookings and ticket selling? I have experience due to checking books in and out of the library.’
Edie’s heart melted. ‘Oh, Mrs Tam, you’re an angel. My first angel. Thank you.’ She leaned down and planted a kiss on Mrs Tam’s soft, warm cheek.
‘I don’t want to be involved,’ Mrs Ormond said with a sniff.
‘Okay,’ Edie agreed.
‘Quite the hoity-toity miss, aren’t you?’ Ornery said, with another sniff and a cold eye. ‘But I suppose you are the most famous person we’ve had in town.’
‘I’m not that famous.’ Only within theatre circles—and if monster Marcus was threatening her career she might be infamous any moment.
The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Everything she’d worked so hard for and trained for. Gone …
‘It must be a challenge, working with all those handsome leading men,’ Mrs Tam said.
‘Sometimes it is,’ she agreed, thinking of the few idiots she’d been paired with. Never date an actor. He’ll likely spend more time in front of the mirror than you do.
Which reminded her—leading man. Call gorgeous Tony in Sydney to check what date he’s coming down.
She glanced over to the library and the ice-cream van. If Josh refused the role of simpleton groom then Ted would want to play the part. Although even Ted might be put off by the word ‘simpleton’, but once she explained the characterisation and plot, all would be revealed.
Ted was currently busy fending off Magdalena Cartwright, who’d retired to the village last year. Ted got all huffy with embarrassment whenever she flirted with him and was occasionally quite rude to her. Not that it put Magdalena off. She was into Ted and after him.
Perhaps one day Edie would write a play about all the people she knew in Swallow’s Fall. It would be a tender-hearted drama, with lots of quirky characters, and there’d be a killer on the loose who was after Mrs Ornery. And maybe Ted too.
A thought struck her. Magdalena would be ideal for the part of the penniless opera singer. The character didn’t have to sing because she’d lost her vocal range due to not being able to afford singing lessons and could only manage a single octave. It was a small part and would suit Magdalena. She could even wear her own clothes, which meant less costume-finding issues for Edie. T
hat dress she was wearing now was perfect: a red 1940s tight-bodice, full-pleated skirt. If Magdalena had a waist, it would be cinched.
Three crew jobs filled and two cast members sorted—once she asked them. This was going well.
Edie looked across the street and skimmed her eyes along the businesses on the walkway. La Crème Parfait, the hairdressers and beauty parlour run by Julia Morelly was closed. She’d have to come into town again tomorrow and seek out Julia and Susie who were her prospective hair and makeup artists.
‘Have you seen Julia or Susie this morning?’ she asked the ladies.
‘They’ve gone on holiday,’ Mrs Tam said.
‘Las Vegas again?’
Ornery grunted.
‘Now, now, Ada,’ Mrs Tam said.
Since the death of her husband a decade ago, Julia had put all her spirit into Swallow’s Fall. Then one day Susie moved into the village and she and Julia struck up a friendship. To the surprise of everyone, that friendship advanced at a rocketing rate and after a holiday in Las Vegas, they came back married. Everyone acknowledged Julia and Susie’s love for each other, and as they never behaved in what some townspeople might consider a ‘gregarious or offensive manner’—Edie rolled her eyes at that—nobody cared. Except for Ada Ornery.
‘All love should be equal,’ Mrs Tam told Ornery in a tone that suggested she’d said it a hundred times.
Edie leaned down and kissed her cheek again, grateful for the insight and compassion Mrs Tam showed the world from her small corner in rural New South Wales. ‘You are such a darling person, Mrs Tam.’
Mrs Tam’s eyes sparkled and a huge flush spread over her plump cheeks. She patted the still-black bun on top of her head. She dyed it these days, but nobody mentioned it. ‘You are generous with your kisses this morning, Edie Granger. I wonder why?’
‘We can guess,’ Ornery said, her mouth set in a know-all pout.
Now what was her problem?
‘Living with a man,’ Ornery continued. ‘Living it up with an eligible bachelor.’
