Set In Stone

by Ros Baxter

  Lou’s stomach heaved as she imagined the scene, and thought about how easily Bo Westin could have been hurt far worse. He was a many time loser, a drunk and a crook, but he was Gage’s father. It was awful to think about Bo making late-night booty calls to her mother, but there were worse things to consider. She would not let herself think about what might have happened if he’d become trapped in that fire; the fire Lou was almost sure her mother had started. A line of sweat broke out on her top lip.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Mick agreed heartily, doing a passable impression of concurring that Bo Westin was indeed a stand-up guy, despite the fact that Lou was fairly certain Sergeant Brooks would probably have had to haul Bo’s arse off to the lockup more than once during his tenure at Stone Mountain.

  Skye sighed and flopped back on her pillow in an impressive improvisation of mercy me, I am so beat from all this helping of the law.

  Sergeant Brooks took the hint and stood. ‘Well, thank you so much for your help, Mrs Samuels. This was just a first pass, get the facts straight. Once forensics are back, we can chat some more.’

  Skye held out her hand to the policeman. ‘I’m sure we will, honey,’ she said, giving his hand a quick squeeze. ‘And thanks again for the flowers.’

  ‘Holy guacamole,’ Sharni gasped as they returned to the carpark. ‘What did you make of him?’

  Lou was distracted, thinking through the questions and trying to discern where the police were at. It had seemed like a fairly standard first interview. Get the responses down for the record, to test against later forensics results, which would take at least a few days.

  ‘The cop?’ Lou shrugged. ‘He seemed nice. He new?’

  ‘I reckon,’ Sharni said. ‘Maybe the last coupla years? I haven’t been back much in that time.’ The unspoken words hung in the air between them: ’Cause my folks are pissed that I left wonder boy Matt.

  ‘But I think I remember him from the Goonabarraga team. He would have been a senior the year we started high school, hey?’

  ‘Mmm.’ Lou was only half listening, thinking she should stop at the house to check it out on the way out to Sunset Downs. There wasn’t a whole lot else she could do on a Sunday. She’d start with the insurance company and the real estate tomorrow.

  ‘He’s so big,’ Sharni murmured. ‘Reckon he would have played front row, don’t you?’

  Lou’s brain suddenly clicked to Sharni’s mutterings. She stopped in the middle of the carpark and turned to face her. ‘You liked him.’

  ‘What?’ Sharni frowned, then shook her head. ‘No.’ She shook it again, red curls flying everywhere. ‘I mean, yes, of course. We all liked him, right? So friendly, but so –’

  ‘Shrewd,’ Lou finished for her, knowing full well the sergeant hadn’t been fooled for a moment by any of her mother’s machinations. She thought about Gage. Shame the same couldn’t be said for him.

  ‘You like him,’ she repeated, tugging one of Sharni’s curls. ‘Sharni and Mick, sittin’ in a tree …’

  Sharni scowled at her as she clicked the little buzzer to open the doors to her mother’s car. Lou knew just how much it had hurt for Sharni to have to go see her parents and ask to stay a while. Lou had told her to go back to Sydney; there was no need for her to stay. But Sharni wouldn’t hear of it. She knew how hard this was for Lou, and Lou also suspected Sharni was in no hurry to get back to Sydney; she was always more herself in Stone Mountain. Gage had said she could stay at Sunset Downs as well, but as Sharni had said, her mother would consider the idea of one of her children staying in town and not staying under her roof akin to eating her own young. Lou, on the other hand, could stay wherever the hell she liked. Mrs Pie had never liked their friendship, even if only due to Lou’s unavoidable association with Skye Samuels.

  ‘I told you,’ Sharni muttered darkly. ‘I’m off men.’

  ‘That was two years ago,’ Lou protested, sliding into the little car a lot more comfortably than Sharni. ‘And you didn’t seem so averse to men last night, when you were dancing with Matt.’

  ‘Oh here we go,’ Sharni said, adjusting her rear-view mirror and grinding the gears mercilessly as she backed out of the carpark. ‘I was waiting for it.’

  Lou made a ‘buttoning my lip’ gesture. ‘Hey.’ She reached over and squeezed Sharni’s arm. ‘I’m not here to judge you, sweetie pie.’

  ‘And you don’t need to,’ Sharni assured her, smiling finally. ‘It was a brain snap. And I’m a harsh enough judge of my own stupid shit.’ She pulled out onto the main street, muttering as she did, ‘What the hell was I thinking?’

  The house was now an investigation scene, cordoned off with yellow tape. Sharni stepped past it then held it up for Lou. Neither of them felt any real compunction about their trespass. This was Stone Mountain – no-one would expect them to stay away, yellow tape or not.

  Sharni whistled to herself. ‘Goddamn,’ she said, turning a circle to survey the wreckage.

  Lou did the same.

  Three of four external walls still stood. Well, two and a half, she conceded, examining the smoking remnant of one. Most of the rest of the house had been completely gutted. Few internal walls were intact, and everything inside was charred almost beyond recognition.

  Lou stumbled through the wreckage, assailed by charcoal, smoke and burning plastic smells, noticing the odd recognisable thing among all the anonymous blackened lumps. The pewter jug that had stood on the hallstand since forever, a relic from Skye’s mother, lay in a pile of ashes, smudged and oxidised, but not defeated. When Lou had been little, Skye had let her use it to bathe her dolls in the big old bath. The edge of what had once been a blue dress caught on a small breeze and landed on Lou’s foot. She picked it up. It was almost completely destroyed, but she noticed the small flower pattern and remembered the last time she had seen it on her mother. Skye never threw anything out.

  Lou stood in the wreckage and expected to feel glad. It was like Skye had said: she should have done it years ago. This place was a mausoleum for the night they could never forget but didn’t want to remember. So yeah, Lou expected to feel relieved, liberated.

  Instead, she stood in the wreckage and a raw, wild grief welled up in her. Her nose started to run; her hands trembled and her skin itched. She remembered things; things other than the event that had driven her away, finally and forever. She remembered skipping back here after school, wondering what scheme Skye would greet her with this time. She remembered mad baking adventures, Skye waking her at midnight to make pancakes and drink pink lemonade. High as a kite, Lou knew now. But at the time, she had only known that she had the prettiest, most adventurous, funniest mother. A mother so different from all the other ones at school that they were like creatures from another species. It took some time before Lou realised why her mother was different, before she understood the stares and whispers, understood why she never got invited back to homes like the other girls did; before she wanted what they had.

  And then she started to remember the rest – the other thing – and she had to slam her eyes shut and visualise a big red stop sign so she wouldn’t pass out.

  Because this place – this steaming wreck – was the epicentre of it all.

  Lou stood in what used to be Skye’s home, shaking, and Sharni stepped over and put her arms around her, wrapping Lou up so tight she could barely breathe. ‘It’s okay to feel sad,’ she said, talking into the top of Lou’s hair. ‘I feel sad, too. I loved coming here with you. I remember her too, you know, before it all became real.’

  And that was it. Lou never had to say anything, never had to explain or justify. Sharni had been there through it all. She got it. It was okay; just like it was okay for Lou to let it all out now. She turned into Sharni’s generous chest and buried her face in the soft flannelette shirt she was wearing. It smelled so much like comfort and home that all the buttoned-up carefulness that had been holding Lou together fell away. Huge, reckless sobs tore from her throat and made their way into the smoking air, while the rest
of her went numb. She sagged against Sharni and let it all go.

  She had no idea how much time passed, who might be watching or how she would stop. But eventually, with Sharni patting and soothing her, she did. Her breathing started to return to normal and feeling returned to her limbs.

  She stepped away from Sharni and looked at her mutely.

  Sharni handed her a tissue. ‘You want to go?’

  Lou looked around at the smoking mess of the place she had lived for the first seventeen years of her life. ‘Yep,’ she said, linking arms with her best friend as they made their way to the little blue car. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘To Gage’s? You sure?’

  Lou thought about her options. She had no doubt Mrs Pie would have her – under sufferance. Mary Moriarty had made it clear that there was room at the Welcome Inn, for those brave enough to accept her barbed hospitality. Then there was Sunset Downs. Lou knew the property well. It adjoined Sharni’s, and the girls had treated it as their own backyard for most of their childhood.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ Lou said, thinking the wide spaces might be just the antidote to all the things that ailed her right now.

  Chapter

  4

  Flame trees

  As Sharni pulled up in the wide, circular drive, she leaned over and squeezed Lou’s hand. ‘Want me to come in? Help you unpack?’

  Lou shook her head, taking in the long verandas wrapping around the old homestead, which was shaded by fire-engine red flame trees coming into bloom. The yard was neat, the grass carefully mowed – no traces of stray machinery, car bodies or delinquent dogs. Beyond the house, well-kept fences led out to closest paddocks, and beyond them, a cluster of outbuildings: the converted stables, the guesthouse.

  It was late in the day, and the valley that sprawled out to the west was showing off how Sunset Downs had got its name, a vibrant palette of pinks, purples and golds turning on a show. ‘Wow,’ she breathed. ‘The place looks incredible.’

  ‘Yep,’ Sharni agreed, her smile almost touching her ears. ‘Gage has done an amazing job, hasn’t he?’

  Lou considered Sharni carefully. She knew all the reasons her friend had never wanted to leave this place. She understood the tug of its raw beauty, and how only the tug of Matt could have trumped it for Sharni. She also knew why Sharni hadn’t come back, after things had gone wrong with her marriage. No-one needed that particular small-town brand of what are you thinking? But seeing Sharni now, her red hair lit gold by the sunset, her grin transforming her into the loud, funny, wild girl Lou had known twenty years ago, it was hard to understand how her dearest friend had ever left.

  Sharni prompted her again. ‘Want some help?’

  ‘Nah,’ Lou said, so tired from the events of the day she knew she just needed to get in, get this all over with and hit the sack. ‘I’m good.’ But she smiled gratefully at Sharni. As she did, she noticed something, a slight droop in Sharni’s huge smile. Her tummy clenched. ‘What is it?’

  Sharni looked straight ahead, out the windscreen. ‘You know how you made me promise never to tell you anything?’ She pointed towards the homestead. ‘About him.’

  Lou nodded, her tummy tightening further.

  ‘Well, I think there are a few things I ought to tell you.’ Sharni’s voice was very quiet and she continued to look in front of her.

  Lou’s vision started to blur. He’s married. Oh my God, he’s married. That’s why the place was so neat. Lou’s eyes flicked over to the pretty baskets hanging on the posts of the homestead veranda, brimming over with flowers.

  A woman’s touch. Holy crap.

  Lou’s mind raced. She hadn’t told Sharni about the kiss at the reunion. If she’d told Sharni about the kiss, Sharni would never have let her come here. Now she was here, in his home, the scarlet woman. What had Gage been thinking, inviting her to stay?

  ‘He’s married?’ Lou hissed. ‘That falls into the category of things you definitely should have told me.’ She closed her eyes, considering whether she would have wanted to know, back in Sydney. ‘At least today you should have told me, once you knew I was coming here to bloody well stay.’ Lou was vaguely aware her voice was becoming hysterical.

  Sharni finally turned to face Lou, her cheeks flushed. ‘No, don’t be bloody silly, of course he’s not married. Of course I would have told you if he was married.’ She closed her eyes briefly and Lou knew she was going through the same process Lou had the moment before. ‘At least today, I would have told you today. It’s not that, it’s –’

  But they had both failed to notice the arrival of the devil himself, and they were interrupted by Sharni’s door being wrenched open. ‘Ladies,’ he said, gesturing for Sharni to step out.

  Both women looked at him, mute and frozen. He appeared to have just come out of the shower – his long hair was wet and curled slightly at his neck. He was barefoot and naked from the waist up, towel hanging from his shoulders, wearing only a pair of jeans. His face was freshly shaved and had that just-scrubbed look, pink-cheeked and touchable. His semi-naked state afforded Lou an unimpeded view of broad brown chest, populated by the kind of muscles you only get from working hard on the land rather than at the gym. His biceps were so big and hard looking, Lou had a mad, girly moment of wanting to reach over and squeeze them. Then there was the scar, the remnant of a fencing accident when Gage had been fifteen, it had never ceased to fascinate Lou. The way it looped, snake like, around his broad brown forearm. Something about it always made Lou want to circle that forearm with her fingers, see if she could get them to meet over its muscular expanse. As she watched him, all the saliva dried up in her mouth and her tummy started tap-dancing with excitement.

  Sharni saved her. ‘You get dressed up just for us?’

  Gage grinned. ‘I was just down at the guesthouse, checking the shower worked okay.’ He aimed his smile at Lou. ‘It’s hot, you’ll like it.’

  Oh no. Did he have to do that? Did he have to plant an image of his tanned, muscly nakedness into her head? And in the shower she would be using? She smiled weakly. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘No probs,’ Gage said, stalking around to the back of the car and banging on it until Sharni released the catch. He returned with Lou’s bag and poked his head in Sharni’s door. ‘Er, you two coming?’

  ‘Not me,’ Sharni said, looking at Lou with eloquent youcan-still-change-your-mind eyes.

  But Lou was committed. She didn’t know what Sharni had been about to tell her, but she was sure it couldn’t be good. She leaned over and kissed her cheek and then dragged herself out of the car like she was made of lead. Then she stood next to Gage and waved as Sharni sped out of the driveway.

  When the little blue car was a speck in the distance, Gage spoke, his voice low and sweet. ‘You look like you’ve been dropped off at Purgatory.’

  Lou turned to him, forcing a smile as those smoky green eyes bored into her. ‘Sorry,’ she said, trying to inject some sincerity into her voice. ‘It’s just been a long day.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, turning on his heel and heading towards the paddocks. ‘Follow me, I’ll take you down to the digs. You can get washed up before dinner.’

  Lou did as she was bid, stepping across the grass carefully in her not-nearly-sensible-enough shoes and trying not to watch his arse, encased in habitually tight jeans.

  Gage was right – the shower was hot, Lou thought as she stepped into it ten minutes later. And the little guesthouse was charming. It had been renovated lovingly to return it to its yesteryear elegance. It was only a single room with a bathroom, but it was large and comfortable, and had a small sitting area complete with its own fireplace. There was a fire crackling as the warm afternoon cooled to evening. A rocking chair and a fluffy rug for toe warming sat in front of the fire. A plain blue bedspread adorned the large but simple bed, along with a couple of throw pillows.

  Lou stood under the steaming assault of the shower and thought about all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. As hard as she tried
to untangle it, she knew she’d had too little sleep, too much trauma and far too many tequilas the night before to make sense of it before she had a proper rest tonight. She only knew three things with any certainty right now: she was at Gage Westin’s place, showering in the same shower his naked body had been in very recently; her mother was dying, and there was a catalogue of other disasters she needed to deal with when she could bear to let her mind start to look at them; and last, there was something going on here, with Gage, that Sharni thought she had needed to know about.

  She wondered if she could stay in the shower forever.

  With a long sigh, she shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping herself in the fluffy towel that had been laid on the bed for her. Exhaustion seeped into her bones, making her head spin a little. She sat down quickly on the bed, dragging her bag towards her with her foot and carefully unzipping it to extract the cosy dressing gown she never travelled without. Snuggled in it, and staring at the fire in the corner, she could almost pretend she was in some high-end mountain lodge, some three-thousand-dollar-a-night escape for the rich and famous. She almost purred as she stretched out on the big, comfortable bed, pointing her toes towards the fire.

  But then, as they often did in quiet moments, the thoughts overtook her. She stared at the flames and saw it all again, as though she was watching it for the first time. The thing that had happened that could never be undone. The familiar nausea toyed with her, and she closed her eyes against the predictable stab of pain that knifed under her ribs. It was worse here, in Stone Mountain. Whoever said you couldn’t outrun grief wasn’t entirely right. You could move away from its epicentre, if only to avoid torturing yourself with its sharper edges.