I was so far out of the loop that I didn’t even know Dad had retired.
“Don’t worry about it,” I replied. “The girls can pick me up.”
“Will we see you when we get home, Mitchell?” Her voice was packed with hope, and setting her mind at ease felt good.
“I’ll be here, Mum,” I promised. “I’m here to stay.”
That ended the call on a high, but I still had to deal with my sisters. Lily is the calmer of the two so I opted to call her. The problem was, they were always together, which meant Jasmine was within earshot when she answered.
The news that I was an hour’s flight from home incited shrill screams that nearly made me drop my phone – and that wasn’t the worst that I had to deal with.
When I finally walked through the arrival gate, I was met by both sisters, a bunch of unruly kids, and a bloke holding a ‘welcome home Mitchy’ sign and a bunch of balloons.
Jasmine started crying and fanning her face. “Oh my God,” she screamed, throwing her arms around me. “You’re finally home.”
She hadn’t changed one bit. Her blonde hair was still dodgy – so dodgy that half of it looked glued on. Maybe her kids had styled it. The little girl bouncing around with a toy bucket wedged on her head didn’t look like the sharpest tool in the shed, but her brother looked shifty enough to handle a glue stick.
Rounding off the trio was baby Lachlan, a stocky little bloke who was the spitting image of his father, minus the balloons.
“I can’t believe you’re finally home,” beamed Wade, pulling me into a crushing hug. It was the most bizarre gesture I’d ever seen a grown man make, especially considering we were meeting for the first time.
“This is Wade,” announced Jasmine, pulling him off me. “My husband.”
“And your brother-in-law,” added Wade with a wink.
Desperate for an escape, I turned my attention to Lily. “How are you, Lil?”
She playfully punched my upper arm. “You look really tired.”
“It’s been a long few days.” I smiled at her. “You look good, though.”
I meant it. Unlike Jasmine, she’d managed to tone herself down over the years. Her hair was darker and no part of her sparkled.
She hugged me tightly. “I’m glad you’re home,” she whispered. “It’s been lonely here without you.”
***
The car ride from Hobart to Pipers Cove was reminiscent of the bus journey from Kaimte to Cape Town. The only thing missing was the caged chickens.
Jasmine and Wade drove a minivan, and if that wasn’t horrific enough, I was forced to sit between the twins on the very back seat.
“You can get to know Linc and Cheynie a little better,” suggested Wade, eyeing me through the rear vision mirror. “But watch out for Cheynie. She gets carsick.”
I quickly snatched the toy bucket from Lincoln and returned it to his sister. “Chunder in the bucket,” I instructed, pointing at it.
Lincoln let out the shiftiest laugh I’d ever heard a little kid make. “It’s not her mouth that gets sick,” he informed me.
Mercifully, the kid held it together and after a while, not even the noise bothered me. I concentrated only on the scenic view that whizzed by much too fast.
The April weather was much colder than anything I was used to lately, but the white-capped ocean and sweeping cliffs reminded me that above all else, I was home and I was safe.
Despite the relief that brought, there was a tinge of sadness wedged in my chest that I just couldn’t shift. Coming home was meant to be a new beginning, but the girl I was supposed to be sharing it with was long gone.
Beyond Repair
SHILOH
I felt as if I’d been away for a hundred years. In truth, I’d been gone for little more than two months. Not surprisingly, the town of Lawler seemed to have coped without me.
With the exception of the Easter decorations adorning the shop windows on the high street, nothing had changed. I even spotted Gladys in the playground as I drove past, sipping from a bottle concealed in a brown paper bag. I considered waving as I passed but didn’t want to startle her. The last thing I felt like doing that day was untangling her from the play equipment.
The only stop I made on the way home was at the Sergeant’s cottage. Allan was nowhere to be seen, but Lynette was hotfooting it around the garden, most likely chasing something fluffy or furry. She was so preoccupied that she didn’t even see me pull up.
As I wandered up the path to the house, she struck. “Gotcha!” she yelled, scooping a white rabbit off the ground. “Thought you could outrun me, did you?” Predictably, the rabbit didn’t answer, but I swear I saw it smile. “Touch my broccoli again and I’ll bloody have you,” she warned, lowering him to the ground.
Finally she spotted me. “Shiloh Brannan,” she crooned in her lovely Irish brogue. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Did you miss me?”
She shrugged. “We made do.”
When I grinned at her, she rushed over and threw her arms around me. “Of course we bloody missed you.” She grabbed my hands and took a step back, holding my arms out while she surveyed for damage.
“I’m good, Netty,” I assured her.
“Well, you look to be in one piece.”
If she’d had the power to see beyond my eyes, she would’ve noticed that I was busted beyond repair, but that was a revelation for another day.
“Come inside,” she said, hooking her arm through mine. “You can tell me all about it.”
My whole body seized at the prospect, a reaction that Lynette picked up on immediately. “Or you can tell me nothing,” she amended, giving my arm a squeeze. “And that would be fine by me.”
Hospitality
MITCHELL
Jasmine and Wade lived right in the centre of town. In keeping with the rest of the street, the modest brick home was neat and tidy. The well kept lawn was obviously Wade’s pride and joy. He explained his weekly fertilising routine to me three times before we reached the front door.
“It’s all about contingency,” he said, confusing the hell out of me. “You have to be contingent.”
The man was so stupid that I couldn’t even listen to him without squinting. I glanced back at Lily who was trailing behind with Lachlan in her arms. She rolled her eyes. “I think you mean consistent, Wade,” she corrected.
“Pretty sure that’s what I said, Lil,” he replied, bobbing his head from side to side.
I had to make other sleeping arrangements. There was no way I was going to survive more than a night of Davis hospitality, and when I walked into their house, I realised even one night might be pushing it.
My eyes darted in every direction, trying desperately hard to take it all in. The walls were a vile shade of lime green that made me queasy.
“Home sweet home,” quipped Jasmine, doing her best Sound Of Music twirl. “What do you think?”
“It’s…. bright.” If I’d had an hour to think about it, that’s still the kindest reply I could’ve come up with.
“Calming, right?” asked the muscly fool standing next to her. “Like a nature scene straight out of Africa.” He pointed at the leopard print cushions on the couch. “You should feel right at home.”
“It’s like I never left.”
Jasmine grabbed my hand. “I’ll show you your room.”
The excitement in her voice made me feel like a jerk. She was trying so hard to make me feel welcome, and all I could think of doing was getting the hell out of there. For that reason alone, I did my best to ooh and ahh in all the right places as she threw open the door of the guestroom and gave me the grand tour.
“I want you to stay as long as you like.”
I wasn’t sure how long I could stay in a room with red floral wallpaper.
“Thanks,” I replied. “I’ll be happy in here.”
Whether it made sense or not, Jasmine had a knack of seeing through me. It was a twin thing that I’d been trying to shake s
ince birth. She slumped down on the edge of the bed and heaved out a long sigh. “I don’t think you’re happy at all,” she accused. “I could tell there was something wrong as soon as I saw you.”
I sat beside her. “I’m just tired.”
“It’s more than that.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Even if I had been willing to confide in her, I had no idea how to explain the events of the past few months. I’d seen and done things that would never be believed. Even I had trouble wrapping my head around it – and I was there at the time.
“All you need to know is that I’m home and I’m here to stay,” I told her. “I’m going to get to know my niece and nephews and hang out with my sisters.”
She glanced across at me and smiled. “I know we’re not close, Mitchy.” I didn’t even cringe when she shortened my name. “But you’ve got plenty of friends here. You should probably know that Charli’s back in town.”
I got the impression that she didn’t necessarily want to share that information, but I was thrilled that she had. A bit of Charli Blake counsel was exactly what I needed to drag me out of the doldrums.
“You two are friends now?”
As far as I was aware, hell hadn’t frozen over.
Jasmine shrugged. “Occasionally - when Adam holds her back.”
My laugh was cut short when Lincoln stormed the room. “Mummy,” he called desperately. “Cheynie was carsick in the garden.”
Jasmine let out a despondent sigh. “I’ll be there in a minute, baby.”
“Do you need a hand hosing her down or something?”
“Why?” she asked. “Are you offering?”
“Hell no.” I threw both hands up. “I’m her uncle not a zookeeper.”
Distraction
SHILOH
Every minute that I spent thinking about Mitchell caused me intolerable pain. The only cure I could think of was to keep busy and throw myself back into my job.
Allan tried to talk me into taking a few extra days off, but didn’t push for a reason when I declined. “You do what you need to do,” he told me. “Besides, it’ll be nice to have someone around to make me coffee.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Netty gets really annoyed when I call her over from next door to do it.”
It felt good to laugh, which meant the best place to be was wherever Allan Kelly was. “It’s good to be home,” I said randomly.
He winked at me. “It’s good to have you back.”
Despite his penchant for kidding around, when I bared my soul and told him the whole story, Sergeant Kelly didn’t downplay the ordeal I’d endured in Kaimte.
“Don’t let it change who you are.” He put his hand to his heart. “The only things with the power to change us are whiskey and lovers,” he said, sounding more Irish than usual. “And even then they need to be bloody good to do it.”
“Stellar advice as always, Sergeant.” I could barely speak for laughing. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
***
Gladys Evans was shaping up to be another good distraction. Just two hours into my shift, I took a call from the manager of the local car dealership.
“She’s locked herself in one of the vehicles,” he reported. “You need to get down here and pull her out.”
I ended the call with a heavy sigh, grabbed the keys to the patrol car and called out to Allan. He wandered out of his office with a cup of tea in one hand and a chocolate biscuit in the other.
“It’s Gladys,” I told him. “She’s raising hell at the car yard.”
He bit into his biscuit. “Welcome home, Constable Brannan,” he replied, charging his cup of tea.
For the first time, I realised I was actually happy to be here. I’d tasted life on the wild side, and was safe in the knowledge that it wasn’t for me.
“There’s nothing wrong with life in the slow lane,” I told him.
He grinned. “Keep your seatbelt on, just in case.”
***
I heard Gladys long before I saw her, yahooing through the driver’s side window as if the stationary car was moving a hundred miles an hour. When she saw us walking toward her, she frantically flapped her hands. “Get out of the way, coppers!”
Allan approached as if he was on a routine traffic stop. “Where are you headed, Gladys?” he calmly asked.
“The city,” she barked. “I’ve got tickets for dinner and a show.”
“Well, dinner at the station will be pretty decent tonight,” he told her. “Maybe you’d like to go there instead.”
Gladys gripped the steering wheel and gazed through the windscreen. “What about a show?” she asked.
“You’re in luck.” Allan opened the car door and gently helped her out of the car. “Young Shiloh’s just spent two months in France,” he told her. “She’s been training at the Moulin Rouge.”
The tanked old lady beamed at me. “Bloody marvellous!” she shrieked. “Count me in.”
***
The cells at the Lawler lockup were Gladys’ second home. I’d given up feeling bad for her. After spending time in a place where people suffered true hardship, it was hard to be sympathetic. She always got a warm bed and a hot meal, but the one thing she didn’t get that day was a burlesque performance.
“I don’t mind,” she said. “I’ve never been a fan of musical theatre.”
After giving her a few hours to sleep off the effects of her bender, I returned to the cell with coffee and a handful of the sergeant’s chocolate biscuits. “Don’t tell him,” I said, handing them to her.
“I wouldn’t tell an Irish copper anything,” she replied, bringing her cup to her lips. “You can’t trust ’em. They’re nothing but a nation of drunks.”
We weren’t exactly run off our feet so when Gladys asked me to stay and chat for a while, I agreed.
“Tell me about your holiday,” she demanded.
There really wasn’t much that I could tell her, so I shared the parts that made me smile. “I saw fireworks in the desert at midnight and I saw the Atlantic ocean at dawn,” I said wistfully.
The cup shook as she brought it to her lips. “Where did you stay?” she asked.
“In a grotty little shack on the beach. It was bliss.”
Gladys dropped the biscuits on her lap and pinched her own cheeks. “You have colour in your face now,” she said.
“A tan, you mean?”
She shook her head, making her frizzy grey hair even wilder. “No, Shiloh,” she replied. “A flush of pink. It’s very telling.”
I shouldn’t have been paying the silly old woman a skerrick of attention, but I couldn’t help asking what she meant.
“Pink in the cheeks means warmth in the heart,” she replied. “I can tell you’ve spent time kissing the sun.”
I headed toward the door. “I have to get back to work.”
“Tell me one more thing before you go.”
I slowly turned around. “What would you like to know, Mrs Evans?”
“Was he handsome?”
“Who?”
Gladys chuckled so hard that her dentures began to slip out of her mouth. “The sun,” she replied, still cackling as she shoved her teeth back into position. “No point kissing the sun unless he’s handsome.”
A picture of Mitchell flooded my mind. “He was perfect.” I smiled brightly. “Handsome and sweet and strong and kind.”
“But it didn’t last?”
I felt my smile fade. “No.”
“That’s the problem with kissing the sun.” She slapped her hand down on her knee. “It’s just too darn hot to last forever.”
“We gave it a good crack,” I replied. “He loved me until he couldn’t. That’s all I asked for.”
Two-Can Fran
MITCHELL
The first thing I missed about Kaimte was breakfast on the deck. I couldn’t see the ocean from Jasmine and Wade’s back veranda, but it was relatively peaceful until the happy couple decided to join me.
“What
are you doing out here?” asked Jasmine.
I held up my mug. “Just enjoying a quiet cup of coffee.”
She pointed to the stack of gym equipment to the right of me. I hadn’t even noticed it before then, but obviously it bothered her. “It’d be better out here without all this junk.”
Wade gasped. “This is not junk, Jas,” he scolded. “It’s very important equipment.”
When he rushed over and wrapped his arm around the cross trainer, I wondered if he was about to kiss it.
“If you were married to a fisherman, there would be crab pots and fishing line everywhere,” he told her. “You wouldn’t stop him fishing.”
Jasmine frowned. “Of course not.”
“And if you were married to Mitchell, you wouldn’t stop him surfing.”
A strangled groan escaped me. The conversation was wrong to begin with, but now it was getting creepy.
“And if your husband was an artist,” he continued, “You wouldn’t stop him artist-ing, would you?”
I’d had all I could take. I handed my cup to my sister. “I’m out of here, Jasmine,” I told her.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure,” I called without looking back. “I’ll let you know when I get there.”
***
The second thing I missed about Kaimte was my car. There’s no bigger reminder that you’ve lost everything in the world than an aimless wander around town on foot.
Getting to the beach from Jasmine’s house meant trekking down the main street. Floss Davis must’ve spotted me through her shop window as I passed. She came barrelling outside and pulled me into a tight hug. “It’s good to have you back, lovie.”
“Thanks, Floss.”
She took a step back and looked me up and down. “How are you holding up?”
“What do you mean?” I had to ask. The pitying look on her face was awful. Perhaps I looked down and out.
Her hearty chuckle threw me straight back to my childhood. “I heard you were shacking up with Jasmine and Wade. That house is like a circus.”
Shiloh Page 28
