‘Hey there little man! Here I am.’ Susie lifted him from his cot and wrapped her arms around him. It had been over an hour since she had last seen and fed him, ‘I missed you!’ She covered his face with kisses. Nicholas clapped, which was his new party piece.
‘You are so clever! Look at you clapping, my clever baby.’
Slade’s drunken voice bleated from the door way, taking her by surprise, ‘Well let’s face it; he’s probably a darn sight cleverer than his mother! How did you get things so wrong, if is this the best life you could manage for that boy?’
Susie placed Nicholas in the cot and walked outside. In her time at the ranch, she had learnt how to keep these brutes away from her son, using every diversion tactic possible. Nicholas didn’t murmur, he was now accustomed to being raised up and plonked down at regular intervals. It made her heart ache at how adept he was, asking for so little of her time, tolerating the hours of abandonment.
‘Please go away, Slade.’
He laughed. ‘That’s it, give me orders why don’t you!’
‘You are a nasty creature.’ She was certain that Loulou had been going to name him as having some part in her attack, ‘Don’t think I don’t know what happened to Elouera. You may think you’ve got away with it, but these things have a habit of coming back to haunt you. I don’t know what I’ve done to make you treat me so badly, I really don’t, but you’ve been awful to me since the day I arrived and I’ve done nothing to deserve it, I’ve only ever cooked for you and tried to keep out of your way.’
‘You think I’d hurt Loulou?’ he took a step closer, ‘You know nothing! Think you can judge me, Miss High-and-Mighty? Think you’ve got it all figured out don’t ya?’
‘No, Slade, I think I’ve far from got it all figured out, but I’ve got the measure of you!’
‘No you haven’t. Not even close. And if you think the gallant naval officer is the answer to your prayers, you better think again. I saw the way you were looking at him.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Susie felt her cheeks flush.
Slade chuckled and shook his head, ‘I think you do, but that’s not what I came to tell you. I heard good old Phillip list you today as part of the fixtures that go with Mulga Plains! That’s how’s he sees you, a thing, for sale along with the gateposts and the creaking old refrigerator!’
‘What are you talking about?’ she shook her head in confusion. He wasn’t making any sense.
‘I’m talking about the will, which was read this arvo and there you were, listed along with Loulou.’
Susie sank down onto the red dusty floor, not caring for her pretty cotton dress.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! That’s not true. It can’t be.’ Loulou’s words sprang into her mind, ‘I am nothing and it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me here, not even close…’
Slade lowered his voice, ‘Oh, but it’s true all right, I seen it with me own eyes and you want to be careful, Missy, without Mitch here to keep the dingo’s off his property, things he owns might get a little damaged, d’you get me?’
Susie felt a quake of fear that started in her gut and spread to her limbs, standing, she tried to feel strong, she could not be threatened by him, she had a little boy to protect, ‘I think there must be some mistake…’ she spoke to the ether, wondering if she was listed alphabetically and what might come before and after.
‘No. No mistake, I promise you.’
Phillip’s voice cut through the darkness, ‘And I promise you, Mr Williams that if you don’t get your things together and be gone by sun up, then it’ll be more than dingoes that you’ll have to worry about. Go now and go quietly.’ Neither had heard him approach in the dusk.
‘I ain’t afraid of you, you gutless Pom!’ he veered on Phillip.
‘And neither should you be. I am a man of reason and as long as you are reasonable you have nothing to fear.’
‘A man of reason? Is that right? All I know is that your uncle was ashamed of you, he told me that and I can see why! Reckon you might be fooling others, but I’m not taken in by your shiny buttons and your slick haircut!’
‘Thank you for that valuable insight, Mr Williams, the clock is ticking. I suggest you go and pack.’
Slade swayed where he stood, considering his best course of action. It was a relief to all when he broke into a run towards the lodging block.
‘Are you really a man of reason?’ Susie asked.
‘Depends on what you mean by reason.’ Phillip’s voice was soft.
Susie let her head fall against her chest and she mumbled into it. ‘I mean, you wouldn’t call a person a “thing” would you? To be inherited like a… a… a piece of furniture.’ Her body shook with the exertion.
‘Don’t cry. Come on. That disgusting bully is gone and he won’t be coming back.’
‘I think he beat Elouera, very badly, knocked out one of her teeth and cut her lip. I’m sure it was him. I won’t ever forget finding her like that. She hasn’t told me exactly what happened, but I expect he did worse than that.’
He turned away from her and stretched his arm out towards her, urging her to follow him wherever he was heading and if she had been alone, she just might have.
‘I… I can’t leave my son.’
‘You have a son?’ he sounded incredulous.
She nodded towards the cabin, where Nicholas now slept, unaware of the drama unfolding outside the ill-fitting front door.
‘Yes, a little boy, Nicholas. He’s fourteen months old.’ One of two, twins...
He took a sharp intake of breath, ‘Is Mitch his father?’
‘Urgh!’ she couldn’t contain the involuntary shudder that swept over her from head to toe, ‘No. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but, God no.’
‘Good. If he had a son, it would change things significantly.’
Susie sat down on the cushion and drew up her legs, hugging her knees towards her chest. She spoke quietly, as if only to herself. ‘I had twins. My boy, Nicholas, and a little girl, Abigail. It’s a horrible mess. I’m from Dorset. I’ve been here for almost a year. I got pregnant back in England and my mother arranged for me to go to a mother-and-baby home,’ she broke off to gather her thoughts, to try and regulate her breathing, this was the first time she had spoken her story aloud. ‘They took her; the nuns who ran the house were quite wicked. I changed my mind about giving my babies away the very second I looked at them, but it was too late for Abigail, they took her and I had to think fast to escape with Nicholas. I heard that they were offering the ten-pound ticket for people to come over and start a new life here. Mitch sponsored me and it all went wrong and now you have to help me. Please.’
Her sob was loud and unrestrained; she shook her head before laying it on her folded arms and concentrated on getting her words out,
‘I am so very, very unhappy. I don’t know how I keep going. I miss my home, I miss having handfuls of shampoo to soap my hair, I miss music, coffee shops, London, the coast, rain. I miss everything. If it wasn’t for my son I would have curled up and died, I know I would. I can’t think. I can’t think about anything, not my past or my future, I can’t. I have to just keep going because if I think about my life or what lies ahead, I think I might go crazy. I’m on the other side of the world to my little girl who doesn’t even know I exist. My baby boy spends his life either asleep in a cot or waiting for me to come home and when I’m not with him, I am a skivvy, cleaning and cooking and waiting on the pigs while they drink and play cards. I think this is hell. I think that I have been sent here to be punished, I really do.’ Her tears dripped from her face and splashed on her arms.
Phillip reached out a finger and stroked her arm. Susie’s hair stood on end. He had such a commanding presence, she almost felt afraid of him.
‘What will happen to us now?’
‘Well, Miss Susie, that depends on you.’ Phillip placed his hand on her back, rubbing in small circles; she could feel the heat of his ski
n through the thin material of her frock.
It felt wonderful to feel human contact. She felt her spine unknot beneath his touch, ‘I don’t understand.’ Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
Phillip leant closer and gave her the softest kiss on the lips. ‘Let’s just say that if you’re nice to me, I’ll make sure that everyone’s nice to you.’ He looked at her affectionately. ‘Remember, you have your whole life ahead of you here. You might as well make the most of what you’ve got.’
She closed her eyes, confusion whirling in her brain, as he moved his hand down to her breast.
‘No! No… I can’t!’ Standing up she stepped back and held him at arm’s length. ‘Phillip, I don’t know if I can do this, I want to, I do, but you’re married… I can’t afford to make any more mistakes.’
She cried then as she lowered her arms to her side.
‘Oh no, please no more tears.’ His voice had taken on a different tone, harsher.
‘I’m sorry.’ Susie mumbled as she sank back down onto the cushions under the awning and lay in silence, allowing her racing heart to settle. Phillip lay next to her and stroked her skin. She savoured the weight of his palm as it skimmed her body, drawing the ache from her bones and healing her spirit.
‘Now why don’t we try that again?’ He rolled onto her, pinning her under his weight, pushing her down into the cushions as he fumbled under her vest, his breath coming in short, heavy, beery bursts as his tongue snaked into her mouth.
Susie tried to wriggle free, ‘Please… stop… no! Don’t talk to me like that!’ She didn’t know where she found the courage, but knew that she had to lay a marker, if he was going to be her new boss, she had to make a stand or things for her and her son could get a whole lot worse.
‘I’ll talk to you anyway I please, Slade was right, you come with the property.’ A glob of spit landed on her cheek, as she felt her insides turn to ice.
She heard his zipper being opened and closed her eyes as he whispered into her ear, ‘I reckon old Mitch had the right idea, dirty old sod, and I think you’ll make my visits here that much more palatable. Don’t worry, I’ll leave Joanne at home next time. Be a good girl and don’t make a fuss, I’d hate to have to give you the same as Mitch gave Elouera.’
‘You bastard!’ she managed through her tears and had her arms not been trapped beneath his body, would have beat him with her fists.
As Phillip grappled at her dress, Susie felt her mind drift away from what was about to happen to her. She thought her about her bedroom at her parents’ house and wondered whether it looked the same as she had left it, the candlewick bedspread, the books, her guitar… Suddenly there was a crack and Phillip slumped forward. A guttural sound escaped from him, as if the breath had been knocked from his body. Susie scrambled out and saw Slade standing over Phillip with a plank in his hand.
‘Slade!’ Susie cried as she reached for dress, shaking.
‘It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. Get your stuff together; we haven’t got long. I’ll bring the truck round, you’re going home.’
‘Going home?’ she hardly dare speak the words, ‘How?’
‘Mitch was a wealthy man, not that you’d think so, judging by how he lived, but he was, very wealthy. I took what was needed and I’ve arranged for tickets. You need to pack up your things and prepare to go, I don’t know how long he’ll be out for.’ He indicated Phillip face down on the cushions, ‘We’re meeting a mate who will take you on and you’ll be back in Pomland before you know it.’
‘Really?’ she blinked up at him
‘Really.’
‘I’m going home!’ She beamed, ‘I’m going home and I can find Abigail, I can go and get my little girl! I… I don’t… I… what can I say, but thank you, Slade.’ Susie sobbed, allowing all the sadness that had pooled inside her for the last few months come to the fore.
Slade disappeared into the darkness as Susie gathered up the sleeping Nicholas and shoved what came to hand into her suitcase. She waited, wondering if it was all a trap, not sure who to trust. The sound of the pickup engine was like music as it cut through the chirping night song. Slade helped her into the front seat, where a beaming Loulou was already seated.
‘Loulou!’ Susie fell into her friend, holding her tightly.
‘Slade been looking after me, patched me up. I’m going across country to stay with my daughter.’ She nodded matter of factly.
‘Slade, I don’t know what to say to you. I’m sorry…’ Susie watched a small flicker of a smile on his thin mouth.
Slade spat into the foot well, ‘Ah, cut it out. Don’t start going all sweet talk on me.’
Nicholas sighed and carried on sleeping, unaware.
‘Make good choices for him.’ Slade spoke to the view from his window, ‘You need to screw your head on right. There might not always be some nasty creature on hand to keep the boss drunk and out of your hair, or to leave you a welcome flower…’
‘That was you?’ Susie smiled.
Slade shrugged.
‘Reckon Slade did a lot for us, Susie,’ Elouera sighed, ‘Reckon he might even have killed old Gunnerslake, least that what I think.’
Susie looked at the road ahead, ‘Oh no, you didn’t kill him did you, Slade?’
Slade shook his head. ‘I didn’t, never killed anyone, I couldn’t.’
Susie closed her eyes. She pictured Mitch, moments before he died, having his afternoon nap in his greasy sheets. It had only taken a moment to place a pillow over his open, snoring mouth. It had only taken a minute before he stopped struggling.
‘He’s telling the truth, Loulou,’ Susie sighed. ‘Slade didn’t kill Mitch. I did.’
The two women interlocked their fingers, holding hands, as the dust kicked up a storm under the wheels of the truck, not that they noticed. They were looking forward at the road ahead, thinking of the new life that awaited them, a life beyond the gates of Mulga Plains. A new beginning.
MISS POTTERTON’S BIRTHDAY TEA
Amanda Prowse
Cordelia Potterton is about to turn ninety-four, and she’s determined to do it in style. The antique cake stand has been polished, the white linen napkins are folded, and the darjeeling is brewing in a silver tea pot. There’s only one thing missing: the guests.
It’s up to her cleaner and her nephew to keep the celebrations going - and make sure Miss Potterton’s birthday tea is a day she will never forget.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Cover
Welcome Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
1
‘Your grammar is appalling!’ Miss Potterton slammed the notepad onto the desk. ‘I mean, I don’t see what is so difficult about it. Did you not cover the subjunctive at school? In fact, no, don’t answer that!’ She held the magnifying glass aloft in her knobbly hand and closed her eyes, as if even the sight of the girl standing awkwardly in front of her was injurious. ‘I am quite sure that your response would only depress me further.’
She sighed and blinked opened her eyes to see the girl stooping down to gather up her anorak and the carrier bag containing her magazine and packed lunch. ‘Wh... what... what’s going on? Where are you going?’ she shouted.
‘I’m leaving,’ the girl replied. ‘I’ll tell the agency that you not only want someone to clean, but they also need a degree in spelling!’
Cordelia Potterton winced. ‘A degree in spelling! What kind of degree is that?’
The girl slammed the door behind her, sending a shiver through the dark-wood
African masks collected by Miss Potterton’s father and still hanging on the wall of the basement flat in Lexham Gardens, Kensington, where he had positioned them long ago.
‘Good grief!’ Miss Potterton gasped as she lifted the receiver. She pressed the numbers on the large-button keypad, repeating them out loud as she did so.
A voice on the other end sighed a morning greeting.
‘Now, which one are you?’ Miss Potterton asked curtly. ‘You all sound the same. Is it Joanna or Katie?’
‘It’s me, Miss Potterton. Katie. And goodness me, this is nearly a personal best! It’s only a quarter past nine and Martine was booked from nine o’clock!’ The girl snorted her amusement.
‘It really isn’t a laughing matter. She was absolutely useless!’
‘They usually are,’ Katie muttered under her breath.
Miss Potterton gripped the phone, keen to explain further. ‘I asked her to take dictation of a simple letter and she had the secretarial skills of a child! In fact, no, my sister and I would have done better when we were ten, and this girl was at least twenty!’
There was no response. Miss Potterton pulled the phone away from her mouth and gave it a rattle, as if that might fix the silence coming from the other end. ‘Are you there, dear?’ she shouted.
‘Yes! Yes, Miss Potterton, I’m here.’
‘I was told that the girl had been to university, a recent graduate, so I naturally assumed that she’d be able to jot down a simple letter to my MP. I feel very strongly about all these basement excavations that are going on. It can’t be good for the foundations and I don’t want to be discovered under a pile of expensive rubble one morning with a sign saying “I told you so” sticking up from the ruins.’
She drew breath. ‘I assumed a university education would mean she was capable of drafting my letter, but no, apparently she studied meeeja, whatever that is. And she had the scrawl of a toddler with palsy.’
‘And I’m afraid that’s the problem. Martine is not a secretary. In the same way that Andrea was not a horticulturist—’
Stories From The Heart Page 24
