by Diane Hester
‘The day after the funeral, Mum tried to smooth things over with me. She came to my room and started crying, said she was sorry she’d had to separate us but that she’d done it for me. I told her it was all right, that Nan and I could talk again now and everything was fine. She knew right away what I meant.’
‘That you could hear your Nan the same way you’d heard your Pa.’
Lindsay nodded. ‘That was when they had me committed.’ She looked up at Shaunwyn. ‘Can you see now why I can’t go to them for help? If I tell them what’s been happening, if they find out that it’s all starting up again …’
Shaun slumped back against her chair. ‘Wow, what a story. How come you never told me any of this before?’
‘I was doing my best to forget it all.’
‘Fair enough. But you know, it’s like your mother said, she did what she did only because she thought it would help you. Rotten as it was, you can’t really blame her.’
‘I don’t blame her. I don’t blame any of them for anything that happened. They did the best they could in an impossible situation. None of us understood what was happening.’
‘Then what’s the problem? If you don’t hold a grudge, then why can’t you see them?’
‘Because I’m not ready. Because … I haven’t graduated yet.’
‘What’s graduating got to do with anything?’
Lindsay pushed herself off the couch, walked to the centre of the room and stopped. ‘Can you believe I’m only just realising this for the first time this very moment?’
She turned around. ‘From the day I got here, in the back of my mind I’ve thought of graduation as the turning point that would change my life. I made such a mess of things growing up, I figured if I could hold myself together for four years of uni, get my degree—the same degree my mother and sister got—do all that, without any episodes, it would prove to my family, prove to me that …’
‘Prove what?’
‘That I was over it. That I was normal.’
Lindsay shrugged and gave a weak smile. ‘Is that pathetic or what? All this time I’ve been picturing graduation with my parents sitting right there in the front row. Even though I haven’t seen them in four years they’ll still be there. And after the ceremony we all go out to dinner at a nice restaurant, something we rarely did when I was a kid. And later that night … after we’ve celebrated,’ she swallowed hard, ‘my family forgives me and I go home with them.’
Shaunwyn tipped her head. ‘Ah, Lins…’
‘Talk about your fantasies, eh. Talk about your unconscious motivation. For four years I’ve had this ridiculous dream and never even realised it.’ She swiped angrily at her tears. ‘And now there’s a good chance it won’t even happen.’
Shaunwyn leaned back. ‘In that case, kid, there’s no point in waiting.’
Chapter 23
The Adelaide Hills were shrouded in winter mist. The eucalypts had shed their bark, their trunks mottled in stark patchworks of cream and grey. Summer dust had been washed from the foliage revealing a lace of rust and smoky olive new growth above the canopy. Everything was edged in a pristine clarity, raw and exposed. Much like her nerves, Lindsay reflected as she drove the meandering Mt Barker Freeway.
The Crafers exit loomed suddenly before her and on a whim she took it. The Stirling exit would have been faster, but it seemed the closer she got to her destination the less certain she was that she wanted to reach it.
Several times since leaving the city she’d pulled to the side of the road to reconsider her current course. Each time she’d found the courage to drive on but now that she was actually in the Hills, actually on roads with memories attached to them, the urge to turn back was mounting steadily.
She wanted the doll’s house, that was all. That was what she kept telling herself. If she couldn’t have Nan it was the next best thing. To get through the current crisis in her life she needed a connection to that one stabilising influence from her past.
The problem was, she knew in her deepest heart she was hoping for more than that. Another chance to make things work. Another feeble hope of acceptance. What she didn’t know was if she had the courage to ask for it. Or the strength to cope if the answer was no.
Was Shaunwyn right? Had she turned her back on her family in spite, an unconscious grudge? If so, or even if they just thought as much, why would they ever take her back?
When she’d called the night before, no-one had answered and she’d left a message stating only that she’d be ‘stopping by’. What had their reaction been when they’d heard her voice? After four long years what would they think? Would anyone be there when she knocked on the door? Would they welcome her in or slam it in her face?
At the thought of the latter a sob knifed her throat and she choked it back. This was a mistake; she couldn’t go through with it. Maybe another time when she wasn’t feeling so fragile to begin with. She pulled off onto the edge of the road. And felt a sharp lurch as a tyre exploded.
The car fish-tailed to a bumpy stop. Lindsay swore. But before she could even open the door her eye was drawn to the rear-vision mirror. A four-wheel drive was pulling up behind her.
She scanned the road—a deserted stretch with dense scrub lining either side— in both directions then checked the mirror again. Behind her, the driver’s door was opening, a figure getting out. A good Samaritan? With the stalker from the night before still fresh in her mind she didn’t intend to take any chances. She reached beneath her seat for the tyre iron.
The figure approached. Shadow played over its six-foot-plus form, broad shoulders and jean-clad legs. In the second it passed into open sunlight she recognised a familiar easy stride. She threw her door open and started back to him.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
Mac had reached her rear bumper and was squatting to examine the punctured tyre. ‘Helping a damsel in distress by the look of it.’
‘You just happened to be passing.’
‘It’s my day off. I love the Hills, thought I’d go for a drive.’
‘On the same road as me. What a coincidence.’
He straightened and brushed off his hands. ‘All right, I was following you. But not for the reasons you think. The fact is I was worried about you.’
‘Afraid your prime suspect might skip town?’
He sighed. ‘Has it occurred to you that you shouldn’t be driving in your present state?’
‘What present state? I had one glass of Bailey’s last night and that was—’
‘I’m talking about these turns you’ve been having. The last one caused you to black out, if you recall. Not the kind of thing you’d like to have happen behind the wheel.’
She chewed her lip. It almost sounded as though he believed her. As though he cared. ‘I told you that was a one-off thing. It’s never happened before.’
‘So it’ll never happen again, is that it?’
She narrowed her eyes as two thoughts connected. ‘Where were you last night around ten o’clock?
‘Why do you ask?’
‘I figure if you’re so worried about me, it might’ve been you who—’ She clamped off the words. Did she really want to tell him she’d walked across campus alone at night? ‘Look if you’re arresting me, get on with it. If not, kindly let me go on about my business.’
‘Doesn’t look to me like you’re going anywhere.’ He nodded at the punctured tyre. ‘Happy to give you a hand if you like.’
‘I don’t need your help. My folks live in Stirling; I’ll call them and get them to come pick me up.’
‘Why don’t we just change your tyre so you don’t have to bother them?’
She blew out a breath. ‘Because my spare’s in pretty much the same condition.’
‘Oh. That does tend to limit your options. Well, how about I drive you to your folks’ place then. We’ll drop your spare at a station on the way and you can pick it up when they drive you back.’
‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ S
he opened her door, grabbed her hand bag off the front seat and pulled out her phone.
It had been so long she didn’t have her parents’ current mobile numbers but their land line still worked. A knot of dismay tightened in her chest as she listened to her call ring out. Had they left the house rather than face her?
She slipped her phone back in her bag and checked her wallet. Six dollars, cash, and her credit card was maxed to the hilt. So much for calling a cab.
Gritting her teeth she turned around.
Mac stood propped against the front of his car, arms folded, head to one side. At least he had the good sense not to smile.
***
They drove the five kilometres to Stirling without exchanging a single word. Lindsay indicated the various turns with hand signals only. When they pulled to a stop on the tree-lined drive of her parents’ block, she looked up at the house and swallowed.
‘Nice place,’ Mac said, shutting off the engine. ‘A fair hike from Armidale, New South Wales.’
She looked at him, incredulous. ‘Boy, you really do your homework, don’t you?’
‘So what prompted the move? Dad get transferred? Mum find a new—’
‘Are you suggesting we had to leave Armidale?’
‘Well, generally when people move halfway across the country—’
‘Look, everything you want to know about me is meticulously documented somewhere, I’m sure. You cops do an excellent job of creating a lasting record of people, accurate or not.’ She turned to stare back up at the house.
Macklyn studied her. Her anger seemed a cover for something else. Anxiety, perhaps. She sat rail straight, hands folded tightly in her lap. She’d made it clear she didn’t want his company, yet she seemed in no hurry to get out of the car. ‘Do your folks know you’re coming?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Relax, will you. I just thought, since no-one answered your call before, they might be away and you’d need a ride back to your car.’
‘Well, I don’t, thank you. I have a key. If no-one’s home I’ll just let myself in.’ If they haven’t changed the locks. She slumped in the seat, suddenly tired of all her pretending. ‘Probably better if they’re not here anyway.’
‘Why would you drive all the way up here hoping no-one’s home?’
She looked at her hands. ‘I’m not exactly close to my parents. Or my sister. The fact is I haven’t seen any of them in almost four years.’
‘That’s a long time.’ He was silent a moment. ‘So what made you suddenly want to see them now?’
She let out a huff. ‘Always the cop, aren’t you? The truth is I’m not sure I do want to see them. I just … I came to get something. Something I left here and would now like to have with me.’
Mac looked up at the windows of the house. No lights were on and nothing stirred behind the drapes. If her parents were in there they’d have heard the car and come out by now. ‘Well, I think you got your wish. Doesn’t look like anyone’s here.’
Lindsay swallowed. No-one home. No doors would be slammed in her face but neither would any be opened to her.
She straightened in the seat. ‘Right then, come on; you’re going to help me. We can load it in your car and be out of here before they get back.’
***
‘A doll’s house.’ Mac stared at the bulky construction Lindsay had just revealed with a flourish. ‘You came all the way up here for this?’
They were standing in the shadows of her parents’ attic amid the clutter of disused furniture, bagged hanging clothes, trunks and boxes.
Lindsay shook the sheet she’d just pulled aside and coughed at the billowing plume of dust. ‘It’s not a toy, it’s a family heirloom. Belonged to my Nan. Her dad made it for her.’
She ran a hand down the dark aged wood, the shuttered windows so perfectly shaped, the miniature shingles, each cut and fitted meticulously by hand. So much love had gone into its making. So much love had been shared in its use.
She noticed Mac watching her and withdrew her hand. ‘It looks in good shape. The rats haven’t got to it at least. I’ll wrap it back up so we don’t damage it when we move it.’
‘You think we’re going to get this whopping great thing down those narrow stairs?’
‘It’s up here, isn’t it? Someone must have managed to navigate the stairs.’
She threw the sheet back over her prize and tied it with string, then stepped to one end of the cupboard on which it sat. ‘If we tip it forward, we’ll be able to get our fingers under it.’
He followed her lead, going to the opposite end of the bench. They pressed with their shoulders till the structure leaned then slipped their hands beneath it. Mac groaned. ‘What’s this thing made of?’
‘Jarrah. That’s what gives it that lovely red colour. Wait’ll you see it in the sunlight.’
‘I’m sure it’s magnificent but it also weighs a ruddy ton. You sure you don’t want to wait till your father gets home so he and I can—’
‘Just keep going, Macklyn. I can manage.’
He worked his way backwards across the floor, feeling with his foot for clear passage amid the debris.
As she’d assured him, the stairs were wide enough and she was strong enough to see the doll’s house safely outside. At the bottom of the verandah steps, however, Mac turned his ankle on a loose paving stone and their progress became a fight for balance.
He teetered backwards down the path, his course uncontrolled.
Lindsay kept pace in short frantic steps. ‘Careful. Don’t drop it!’
With a grunt, he slammed into the side of the Prado. She sighed in relief, grateful something had stopped them short of ending up at the foot of the driveway. They staggered around the back of the car, slid their burden through the open doors and collapsed on the tailgate.
‘That was some pretty fancy footwork,’ Lindsay said between gasps for breath. ‘Ever think of trying out for Swan Lake?’
The corner of his sweet mouth lifted slightly. ‘I don’t think tutus come in my size.’
Her smile broadened. ‘Did it help to take all those little mincing steps? You looked like Fred Flintstone going bowling.’
Their gazes met, held for an instant, a charge of exactly-what’s-happening-here passing between them. Then she looked down.
‘How’d you do that?’ She pointed at a rip in his pants leg.
‘Snagged it on something up in the attic. Your parents sure keep a lot of junk.’
‘My dad never could throw anything away. Guess he hasn’t changed in the last four years.’
‘Four years.’ He shook his head. ‘Has it really been that long since you’ve seen them?’
And just like that, their moment of light-hearted truce was over.
‘Tell me, Macklyn, is it just me, or are you like this with everyone?’
‘Like what?’
‘The constant suspicion. I mean is it a cop thing, or just your nature to doubt everyone?’
‘I didn’t think you were lying about it; it’s just I find it hard to believe you’d stay away from your family so long.’
‘When was the last time you visited your folks?’
‘My dad died when I was fifteen. But …’ He shifted. ‘I just saw my mum the other day.’
‘And everything is cool between you. You never have any little dramas or squabbles. Your mum never meddles or tells you how to live your life.’
A guarded expression darkened his face. ‘Mum’s not a meddler. Never has been.’ His voice dropped further. ‘And she doesn’t say much of anything these days.’
She frowned at his words. Something in his tone …
She opened her mouth then snapped it shut again, her heart suddenly slamming against her ribs.
A car was coming up the drive.
Chapter 24
A grey Holden Rodeo emerged up the lower drive and swung around in front of the house. As it rolled to a stop beside his car, Mac saw Lindsay’s hand fly to her collar.
She looked at him, startled, then lowered her hand.
A slim handsome woman stepped from the Holden’s passenger seat. Her short white hair was elegantly coiffed, her pants suit casual but finely tailored. Despite an aura of polished composure, she rushed to Lindsay and enfolded her in her arms. ‘I’m so sorry we weren’t here to greet you. We were at the shop picking up a few things for lunch.’
Lindsay stood stunned, accepting the woman’s hug and kisses yet clearly uncertain how to respond.
As the pair drew apart, a second stately figure came towards them from the car. Tall, silver-haired and ruddy-complected, Mr Cavenaugh had the look of a yachtsman. He walked up to Lindsay and, without a word, clamped her heartily in his arms.
Mac could just glimpse Lindsay’s face pressed to her father’s shoulder. Her arms rose hesitantly to return his embrace, her eyes shut tight against threatening tears. For several moments he simply clung to her. Then, reluctantly it seemed, he released her to step back, visibly moved.
They stood recovering in awkward silence, then all three turned to acknowledge Mac’s presence.
‘Lindsay, you didn’t tell us you were bringing a friend. I’ll set another plate for lunch.’ The woman put out a hand to him. ‘I’m Ellen Cavenaugh. And this is my husband, Warrick.’
Mac shook her hand but before he could speak, Lindsay jumped in. ‘Mum, Dad, this is Mr Macklyn.’
He shot her a glance. Mister Macklyn?
‘And he won’t be staying,’ she added quickly.
‘Won’t I?’ he said.
Her gaze locked with his. ‘He’s very busy. He has to get back.’
‘Actually, my weekend is pretty open.’
‘But you have all that work to do,’ she said through her teeth.
‘Oh, that’ll keep.’
‘Lindsay, for heaven’s sake!’ Ellen cut in. ‘Your friend drives you all the way up here and you act as though you want to get rid of him.’
‘Mr Macklyn isn’t exactly a friend.’
‘Oh? But I thought—’
‘And he didn’t drive me all the way here. My car broke down on Richardson Road, he happened to be going past and gave me a lift.’
