She cupped her hands to her eyes and stared into the darkened foyer as the doorbell chimed throughout the house. The staircase was in shadow, the banister curving upwards into the darkness where her father would be sleeping upstairs. She rang the bell again, ignoring the voice in her head whispering that this was a bad idea and she should move on to her mother’s place.
A shadow fell across the downstairs hallway and then her father appeared. His hair had been trimmed, probably in readiness for his court appearance, and he looked thinner, like he’d lost some of his paunch.
Lynsey lowered her hands, standing in full view where he could see her through the clear pane of glass. She squared her shoulders, hands clenching at her sides as she watched him come closer. He unlocked the door without hurry.
‘What do you want?’ he asked, keeping hold of the doorknob. Somewhere in the house a clock struck midnight.
A strange calmness settled over Lynsey. There was nothing standing between them now except volumes of bad blood and unspoken recriminations.
‘I came to talk about the trial tomorrow. May I come in?’
‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough?’
Anger burned at the injustice of his accusation, but the eight weeks in Brisbane had given her a perspective and a clarity she hadn’t been able to achieve while she was here. ‘Everything bad that’s happened is because of what you’ve done, Dad.’
Her father had never taken personal responsibility in his life for the mistakes he’d made, always looking to shift the blame onto someone else. Well he wasn’t going to do that to her.
Annoyance flashed in his eyes, but he opened the door wider so she could enter. Lynsey brushed past him and went to stand at the bottom of the stairs. She had no intention of going any further than the foyer or staying a moment longer in the house than was necessary.
‘You have a hide coming here,’ Donald Carter said, his back to her as he closed the door. ‘You betrayed me when you handed those things to the liquidator.’
‘You betrayed me when you broke up my relationship with Julian and squandered my inheritance.’
He turned around. ‘I did have money put away for you, in a separate account. Yasmin found it and cleaned it out. She was going to double-cross me and do a flit out of the country. I hope she rots in jail.’
Shock sent Lynsey light-headed, and for a few seconds she couldn’t speak. Had he hoped to appease her by telling her this now? ‘I wouldn’t have taken it anyway, Dad, and I’m not here to talk about Yasmin. I want to know why you’re pleading “not guilty” tomorrow when there’s overwhelming evidence to the contrary?’
‘Why do you care?’
‘Because I have a conscience, something you seem to lack. You and Yasmin sent the mill broke. People couldn’t feed their kids. You committed the crime, Dad. We both know that. You need to repay your debt to society by serving your time if you’re given a prison sentence.’
When he didn’t say anything, Lynsey swallowed the iron lump in her throat. ‘I’m not asking this for me, or for Mum. I’m asking you to do this for the townspeople. Don’t you think you’ve put them through enough without subjecting them to a lengthy court trial?’
‘They don’t have to go.’
‘Many of them will. They may have their jobs back, no thanks to you, but they’ve still lost their entitlements which they spent years working for.’
When he didn’t offer anything more, Lynsey threw up her hands and walked over to the door. ‘I’ll be in that courtroom tomorrow, watching while you try and squirm and lie your way out of taking responsibility for what you and Yasmin did.’
‘What the hell do you expect me to do?’
Lynsey wrenched the door open and looked back at her father. ‘Act like a man for once, and plead guilty.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
The trial of Donald Leslie Carter on 8 September proved to be of huge public interest. By nine-thirty in the morning, the press were lined three deep on the footpath outside the courthouse, and the queue of people hoping to make it into the gallery snaked halfway around the block.
Lynsey stood with her mother and Willow towards the front. They’d left Mindalby early, eaten breakfast in a cafe in Bourke and then made their way to the courthouse with time to spare. Warren Leadbeater was there, supporting the workers who, like himself, had taken a day off to attend. Many of the Mindalby locals nodded gravely to Lynsey and her mother as though in silent commiseration.
Lynsey stifled a yawn, half-listening to a conversation between her mother and another woman in the queue. After the long drive home yesterday, and three hours’ sleep, she was barely functioning.
‘Oh, here we go,’ said Willow, craning her neck. ‘They’re opening the doors.’
The courtroom where her father had been formally charged eight weeks ago looked the same. The bench was empty. The police prosecutor was sitting on the left-hand side of the barrister’s table, her father’s two legal representatives on the right. The media took up their usual position at the side.
Willow, Lynsey and her mother chose one of the vacant bench seats, sitting close together and checking that their mobile phones were turned off as the gallery filled up around them.
‘I wish I’d remembered to bring a cushion,’ Veronica said, muffling her voice with her hand. ‘I’d forgotten how hard the seats were.’
‘I could pick up some cheap ones at lunchtime,’ offered Willow.
‘Oh no, I’ll bring three from home tomorrow,’ said Veronica. ‘Just remind me to put them in the car in the morning.’
Lynsey paid little attention to the conversation. She stared at the back of the panelled dock imagining her father sitting inside.
‘All rise!’
Chairs scraped, clothing rustled and jewellery clinked as the gallery surged to their feet. Someone coughed as the District Court judge arranged his robes before taking his place at the bench. When the gallery were seated, the judge leaned forward and spoke into the microphone. ‘In the matter of the New South Wales Police and Donald Leslie Carter.’
The police prosecutor was on his feet right away. ‘Your Honour, my learned friend has a matter to address your Honour on.’
Her father’s barrister stood up. ‘Your Honour, after lengthy discussions with my client, I have received firm instructions that my client wishes to amend his plea to each of the three charges—and to enter a plea of “guilty” with respect to each.’
There was a collective intake of breath, and then a murmur rolled through the court like a Mexican wave. Lynsey’s mouth fell open, and her heart began to beat so fast she went light-headed. Someone groped for her hand. Her mother. Blinking back the tears she squeezed her mother’s fingers. No one knew she’d spoken to her father last night. That conversation would remain between the two of them.
The judge looked towards the dock and addressed the accused directly. ‘Is that correct, Mr Carter, that you now wish to plead guilty with respect to each of the three charges that have been laid against you?’
‘Yes, your Honour.’
‘Very well. I’ll accept a plea of guilty on each matter. The panel of jurors will be told that their services are no longer required, and I’ll set this matter down for sentencing in two weeks.’ He turned to the prosecutor. ‘Do you have anything to address me with regard to the continuation of the accused’s bail?’
‘No, your Honour.’
‘Then bail is continued. The defendant is to reappear for sentencing at ten am in two weeks’ time, the twenty-second of September.’
Reporters hunched over their phones, fingers a blur as they texted and tweeted the news.
And then the judge’s clerk stood up. ‘All rise.’
The gallery stayed standing while the judge left the court, and then a cheer went up from the cotton mill workers. All throughout the gallery, people were shaking hands and clapping each other on the back while the reporters raced up the centre aisle, computer bags bumping against their hips.
Lynsey stare
d at the dock, hoping to get a glimpse of her father, but a court official walked over to the dock and stood there talking to him while the legal bench packed up their files. Were they discussing the best way for her father to leave?
‘Lyns, come on.’ Willow tugged at her sleeve.
Lynsey turned away and followed her mother and cousin from the court room. Outside, people were gathered in small groups, talking, laughing, celebrating that Don Carter had finally owned up and admitted that he was guilty of everything he’d been charged with.
‘Well, that was a turnup for the books,’ said Veronica, shaking her head at a reporter who ventured close with a microphone. ‘Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that to happen.’
‘I wonder what made him change his mind,’ said Willow. ‘Maybe he’ll get a reduced sentence for pleading guilty.’
‘I’ve no idea, Willow,’ said Veronica.
‘That’s what happens in the movies, but …’ Willow broke off as something caught her attention. ‘Oh, look. There’s Julian.’
Lynsey stilled. Julian?
A pulse began to throb in her throat as she turned her head to see where Willow was pointing. Sure enough, Julian was coming towards them, moving in that smooth, easy style. He wore dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a navy blazer which brushed his hips when he moved. Without breaking stride, he jogged up the gutter and began skirting around the media contingent.
‘Juls!’ Willow cried, waving wildly and almost whacking Lynsey in the face.
‘For God’s sake, Willow.’
Lynsey’s mouth turned dry and her heart began to pound as Julian’s lips curved in a smile. He looked fantastic—beyond fantastic. His hair was longer, and it suited him, though Lynsey couldn’t ever recall something not suiting Julian Stone. His naturally olive skin, which had always tanned so easily, was a shade darker now that winter had ended. And his eyes, when they settled on her, burned a brighter lapis blue.
Lynsey wanted to run, wanted to push through the crowd and throw herself at him like they did in the movies. But this wasn’t Hollywood. This was the edge of the outback, a land of cotton, wheat and chickpeas, of fuel tankers and harvesters and red brown soil. And Julian Stone, like the craggy cow cockies that came in from the properties, and the hardened factory workers of the cotton mill, wasn’t one for overt displays of public affection. He left his ardour for the bedroom.
‘Lynsey,’ he said as he joined them. ‘This is a surprise.’ Then before she could answer he was greeting her mother and Willow. ‘Who’s minding Atlas?’ he asked.
‘Shaun and the other boys.’ Willow hooked a thumb towards the court. ‘Were you inside?’
He nodded. ‘I was standing up the back.’ He shifted his gaze to Lynsey. ‘When did you get home?’
Somehow Lynsey found her voice. ‘Late last night. Then we had to be up at five to make sure we got here in plenty of time.’
He looked away, raised a hand in greeting to someone he recognised and then looked back at her. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here. The last time we spoke you weren’t sure if you’d be able to get the time off.’
‘I didn’t think I would, but it all came together in the end.’
Even her father pleading guilty.
Julian nodded, and Lynsey wished with all her heart she could explain everything to him, but right then Warren Leadbeater was coming through the crowd, making a beeline for them. ‘Mum, I think Warren wants to talk to you.’
‘It’s not ideal congregating out here on the street,’ the union rep said as he joined them, ‘so someone suggested that we have a celebratory get-together in the park when we get back to Mindalby. Someone’s picking up snags from the butcher and someone else is getting rolls from the bakery. It’s just an impromptu sausage sizzle, but—’ he paused for dramatic effect, ‘—I’ve been asked to come over and extend an invitation to the—’ he made quotation marks with his fingers, ‘—“good Carters”. They want you to know that you are very welcome to join us.’
There was an awkward pause.
Lynsey’s stomach turned over. The last thing she felt like doing right now was eating anything.
Julian stood with his hands in his pockets, eyes downcast as he waited for one of the women to answer.
‘That’s very nice of them,’ Veronica said, turning towards the group of Mindalby locals, some of whom were watching on. She smiled a little and nodded her appreciation for the gesture.
Lynsey took a shaky breath. ‘Thanks, Warren, but I’ll decline. What’s happened this morning is a relief for the town, but I don’t feel able to celebrate what’s likely to be a prison sentence for my father.’
‘That’s perfectly understandable.’ Warren quirked an eyebrow at her mother. ‘What about you, Bonnie?’
‘Oh … dear.’ Her mother laid a hand on her chest. ‘It’s true that many of the locals are my friends and customers—it could be a way of smoothing over the awkwardness.’ Her mother looked at Willow. ‘Willow and I might go, what do you think? We could pick up Atlas and bring him along?’
Willow nodded. ‘Sure. He’s always up for a run around the park. It’s a beautiful day.’
‘That’s settled then. I might see you two and the little tacker a bit later on.’ Warren gave the group an informal salute. ‘Have a safe trip back to town.’
While her mother and Willow discussed the picnic, Lynsey turned to Julian. ‘I was going to give you a call at lunchtime to let you know I was back. What are your plans now?’
‘I don’t have any. I thought I’d be up here all day.’
‘Can we talk somewhere?’ she asked in a low voice, conscious of her mother and Willow shifting away so as not to eavesdrop on their conversation.
He nodded, his eyes roaming her features like he still couldn’t believe she was there. ‘How about my place? I’ll head straight back.’
Lynsey smiled, and for the first time in months it felt like the sun was shining in her heart and soul.
‘Go and be with your family now, Lyns,’ Julian said, beginning to move off. He raised a casual hand in farewell to Willow and her mother, though his eyes kept returning to Lynsey’s face. ‘I’ll see you in a little while.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
When Julian opened his front door an hour and a half later, Lynsey walked straight into his arms.
‘Lynsey,’ he groaned, kicking the front door closed with his foot and wrapping her in his arms. Unbridled joy coursed through Julian’s body even as her shoulders began shaking and the tears began to flow.
‘It’s alright.’ He stroked her back, smoothing a hand over the soft brush fabric of her jacket and nuzzling his face into her silky hair. ‘It’s over now. Finally, it’s over.’
She nodded and brought her hands up to his chest but she didn’t lift her head. Julian held her, rocking her a little as she released the tension and pent-up emotion she’d clearly been holding inside. He had no idea how much of that emotion was attributed to her father and the outcome at the court today, but he was hoping there might be some tears of joy in the mix at their unplanned reunion.
After a while, the tears subsided and she raised her head and looked at him. Moist, jade green eyes stared up at him, shining with so much love Julian thought he might have shifted into a parallel universe. Before he could work any words past the ache in his throat, she raised her hands to brush her thumbs across his lips.
‘I think you’d better kiss me now. You’ve been holding out on me way too long, and you don’t have an excuse anymore—these have all healed up.’
He took her face between his hands and lowered his head. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks and nose. Then he touched his lips to hers with the sweetest touch, savouring the softness, the warmth, the taste of Lynsey Carter, something he’d never been able to forget. He brushed her hair aside and kissed a trail down her neck. She moaned on a soft breath and tipped her head back, relaxing against him as the tension left her body. He kissed his way up again and took her fa
ce between his hands. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’
He lowered his hands and they went to sit on the same couch where’d they’d been questioned by the sergeant after Sid Akers had followed them from the depot that night.
‘How long are you here for?’ he asked.
She hesitated for few moments then gave a tentative smile. ‘This time I’m home for good.’
***
Lynsey watched the expressions drift across Julian’s face. Shock, surprise and finally puzzlement.
Uncertainty clutched at her heart. ‘I said I would come back. Did you doubt me?’
He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers for a second. ‘Not for a minute,’ he said softly.
Fresh tears pricked at the backs of Lynsey’s eyes. ‘I wondered, you know, if you’d changed your mind about us, after I’d gone back. Our telephone conversations became more and more difficult, at least that’s how it felt to me. I got the feeling you were pushing me to get my visa, to take up the offer of the scholarship. I didn’t understand.’
‘Everything’s all right, Lynsey,’ he said, moving closer to her.
‘I couldn’t stay there. I gave a month’s notice, and then it took another month to find someone to sublease my flat. I crashed on a friend’s couch while I sold all my furniture …’
He captured her hand, raising it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist like he had in the car the day she’d told him about the things she’d found in her mother’s storage unit. He lowered her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. ‘I’m coming to America with you.’
Lynsey put a hand to her throat, and she wondered how many shocks she was going to have to withstand today. Of everything she’d imagined Julian Stone was about to say, this hadn’t been one of them. She shook her head, confused even as a bolt of excitement ricocheted around her body. ‘What do you mean? I’ve come home—to you.’
‘For now.’ He winked then pushed himself off the lounge. ‘I’m going to have a whiskey. Want one?’
A Daughter’s Choice Page 19
