by Helene Young
So here he was in Banksia Cove, not quite the way he’d planned it. He shifted in the bed, the cold seeping into him, sifting through the sounds of the night. He thought he heard metal on metal. Something loose on the building flapping in a breeze? Or unwelcome visitors? He sat up, resting on the edge of the bed. His rubber soles squeaked on the cement floor as he stood up. Damn. He unlaced them, slipped them off and picked them up.
The handle turned easily enough, but the door stuck at the top of the frame. He leant away, willingly it to move silently. It finally released and he took a step backwards before he stopped again. The noise was louder this time and it sounded as though it was coming from the direction of the water. A boat maybe? Without a watch he could only make an educated guess, but it felt like four a.m., the coldest hour before the sun touched the horizon. His socks muffled his footsteps as he headed for the kitchen and looked out the grimy window. There was enough glow from the hidden moon to see the cloud cover was low, a fog almost. The tops of the tallest trees were wreathed in white. He glimpsed a faint light at the bottom of the boat ramp. A tinny or a small pleasure craft? Surely they couldn’t have found them so soon?
Someone coughed, phlegmy and thick. There was a splash and he could just make out a dark shape bending low.
‘Rosie. How did she know?’ Darcy spoke from behind him and he spun around.
‘Aunty Rosie?’
‘Sounds like her. She likes to fish so maybe it’s just a coincidence.’
‘Coincidence?’ He couldn’t believe that.
‘Yeah, you’re right. She must have worked out I’d headed here. Don’t ask me how she does it, but Rosie knows more than anyone. She left school in Grade Five, lives in a house most people would think needs knocking down and has fostered enough children to fill a 737. For Rosie life is always about others. Bet she’s brought food and blankets.’
‘Really?’
Darcy brushed past him and her touch sent a quiver through him. He knew she had to be as exhausted as he was and yet somehow her skin glowed in the low light, her voice upbeat.
‘You handle pressure well, take it in your stride.’
She snorted as she turned from unlocking the door. ‘At eight o’clock on a busy Friday night when there are thirty entrées to prepare, plus twenty mains due to go and your headwaiter twists her ankle, there’s no room for panic. I thrive on pressure.’ She opened the door and slipped into the night. He pulled on his shoes and followed her out and down to the ramp.
‘Rosie, what on earth are you doing here?’ Darcy asked as she grabbed the gunwale of the battered tinny and helped the old woman heave it in. Rosie’s multi-coloured dress billowed around her.
‘Well, my nephew was down here earlier layin’ some crab pots. Said he saw Muriel’s car turn up. Everyone knows she hasn’t been out in it since Reggie crossed over. Them fellas in that great big car find you?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’ Darcy didn’t seem surprised that Rosie had put the two things together. Conor felt unease settle in his stomach like a late night kebab.
‘Thought they might have,’ Rosie continued. ‘That silly daughter of mine told them where you lived. I said, “Merle, you’re a fool. White fellas who come lookin’ for other white fellas down here in our country aren’t the sort you invite in for a cuppa.” So I sent Zeke back to your house and he said no one was home. I knew you’d come here. Figured you’d need some tucker. And who’s going to look twice at me out at this time of night. Caught me a couple of nice bream on the way over as well. Do just fine for dinner tonight.’
‘Rosie, you’re a champion.’ Darcy planted a kiss on the woman’s round cheek. Rosie’s smile shone white in the dark night.
The old woman looked at Conor. ‘And you must be the reason for all this carry on.’
Conor nodded. ‘I am.’
‘Well, you’re a damn fool, but lucky for you Darcy and Noah are looking out for you.’ She put out her hand. ‘Rosie, or Aunty if you can’t remember that.’
‘Conor,’ he replied, feeling the rough texture of a work-worn palm along with a warmth that settled him.
‘Not Tyrone any more, eh? Conor’s a good strong Irish name. Is your mother proud of you?’
He almost laughed. ‘It is Irish, but I’m not sure my mother’s proud of me.’
‘Well, make her proud, then. Now, give us a hand with this stuff. No point waiting for sun up.’ The red, white and blue striped bags were bursting at their seams.
‘What’s in them?’ Darcy asked, hefting two of the heavy bags over her shoulder.
‘Just a couple of blankets and some clothes, flashlight, yams, baked beans, some ham, loaf of bread. Just some stuff. You closin’ the shop today?’
‘It’s probably best.’
‘Right. You don’t want them big blokes worrying you. ’Course, me and Zeke could hold the fort if you like?’
‘And if they come calling?
‘I’ll tell ’em you gone to visit your mum in Sydney. She’s not well again, you know. I don’t need no doctor to tell me that. You look after your mum, eh?’ She headed up the ramp, leaving Darcy and Conor looking at each other.
‘Your mum’s not well?’ Conor was struggling to keep up with the conversation’s sudden change in direction.
Darcy hesitated. ‘She’s been ill, ovarian cancer, but I thought she’d beaten it. Maybe she hasn’t.’
Now wasn’t the time to delve deeper, Conor thought. He followed Darcy as she stomped along up to the building. They’d caught up to Rosie, who was rocking from side to side with the load. ‘Let me take that.’ He reached for the bag but Rosie shook her head.
‘Nah, thanks. Use it or lose it, my mum always said. So, Zeke and me’ll open up. We can always shut early, being a Tuesday and all. And don’t you worry about us. Them blokes come back, young Zeke’ll send ’em packing. Gives you time to sort him out, eh.’ She jerked her head at Conor. She was wheezing like an old tractor by the time she dumped the bags by the door. ‘Give us a hand to push the tinnie out. Want to get back before the tide drops.’
Conor followed the two women back down to the boat, half listening to the conversation about set-up for the shop.
‘Gonna be foggy today,’ Rosie said when they reached the runabout. ‘Real foggy.’
‘I think you’re right. Stirling’s supposed to fly in today.’
‘Your dad? Well, that’s a turn-up. How’d you feel about it?’ Rosie stopped pushing the boat. ‘You okay with that?’
Conor steadied the tinnie, hiding his impatience.
Darcy shrugged. ‘I’m not sure why he’s bothering. He barely saw me in Sydney when we both lived there. Unless . . .’ She nibbled her bottom lip again. ‘Unless he wants to tell me something about Beverley, maybe bad news?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘Your mum’s hardly going to tell Stirlo something she’s not prepared to tell you. Right, love, I’ll let you know how we go at the shop. And you stay out of trouble, mate. She’s got enough on her plate.’ Rosie stabbed a bony finger into Conor’s chest. ‘She needs a good man, not one who’s borrowed more trouble than he can carry.’
With that she rolled into the tinnie, yanked the handle on the small outboard and puttered away, leaving behind the smell of two-stroke and a phosphorescent trail in the water. The air, clammy and cold, made Conor cross his arms and hunch his shoulders.
‘We need to move now,’ Conor said, striding back to the building and not waiting to see if Darcy followed. He was fighting to control his nerves. If Rosie and her family knew they were here, then it was just a matter of time before Rod Reeves’ bullyboys found them as well.
‘No.’ Darcy jogged up next to him. ‘No. This place is safe. Most of the locals think it’s haunted, probably because Rosie likes to keep it that way. The gates are locked and the only other way in is from the water. They’d need to come past Rosie’s mob and white men in that area would be noticed.’
‘She lives in one of those settlements? A camp?’ He didn’t mea
n to sound so dismissive.
Darcy shot him a sharp look. ‘Sort of. It’s her country, her tribe’s country. Lots of people assume because they don’t keep white picket fences that they’re dirt poor, unhappy and illiterate. Rosie reads more books than I do and is one of the happiest people I know. She won’t tell anyone that we’re here and she’ll have told Zeke and her nephew to keep their mouths shut. Wild horses couldn’t drag information out of her.’
‘A good beating just might.’
‘Oh for Pete’s sake.’ Darcy rounded on him. ‘No one’s going to harm Rosie. You’re being melodramatic.’
He thought he heard an edge of concern in her voice.
‘You can’t be sure of that.’
She looked at him, her mouth a determined line. ‘If we leave here then we’re on the run for the next two weeks. I have money, but I don’t have cash. If there’s police involvement in this, then my credit card is out of the question and I need to go to the bank to withdraw face-to-face. That’s not going to happen until later this morning.’
‘If I leave here alone, then I’m on the run for the next two weeks. I’ll manage without you. No offence, but I did okay for the last six months.’ He was determined to make her see sense. Danger followed him. ‘Please, Darcy, you’ve done enough. More than enough.’
‘Okay, but let’s get a couple more hours’ sleep then discuss it. There’s no point in you having survived this long to then miss the court case. We’ll come up with a plan.’
‘Why are you so hell-bent on doing this? You know Stirling may well end up in jail, disgraced?’
Her eyes appeared huge in her pale face. It made him want to cup her cheek in his hand, draw her in and lay his lips against hers again. It wasn’t the cold making his knees tremble.
‘Due process will decide that,’ she said. ‘Maybe there’s another side to this.’
If she hadn’t looked so vulnerable, he would have laughed. ‘The other side of the story won’t change the facts.’
‘He’s still my father, for all his arrogance and absence. Nothing will change that.’
He gave in. He was freezing and he would need money to go anywhere. Right now she wasn’t going to help him with that. ‘Okay.’ He gestured at the door. ‘A couple of hours’ sleep would be good.’
For a long moment she just looked at him, her face composed. ‘Let’s see what Rosie brought us. Don’t know about you, but I could hardly sleep I was so cold.’
He nodded, looking back at the inky water as the eerie white shroud of fog crept closer. He picked up the last of the bags and followed Darcy inside. Surely they’d be safe for a couple of hours.
19
The familiar ringtone pierced her tired brain. Darcy fumbled to answer it. ‘Noah. Where are you?’
‘I’m leaving the accident at last. Relief has arrived from Gladstone. How are you?’
‘Fine, fine. What time is it?’
‘A bit after seven.’
‘Really?’ She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Huddled under Rosie’s old blankets she must have fallen into a deep sleep. ‘That’s not good. I’ve overslept.’
‘Half your luck. How’s Conor?’ Was there a note of censure in his voice? She almost gave in to a smile.
‘Don’t know. I hope he hasn’t done a runner.’
‘Nothing you can do, Darce. You can’t keep him prisoner. I’ll be there in an hour and a half max.’
‘I thought you told me to keep him safe until you could get here?’
‘Yeah, well, I found out a truckload of information about Conor Stein. He ran with a crowd that played hard and didn’t give a rat’s about anyone else.’
‘His wife was a doctor.’
‘And your point is? She was probably the one who made him come clean. This isn’t just about match-fixing. Giving drugs to unsuspecting sportsmen, then blackmailing them to throw a match while Rod Reeves bets on a certainty. Maybe Conor Stein really didn’t know the full extent of the money laundering he was involved in, but surely any financial controller at that level has to ask questions. ’
Darcy struggled to take it all in. ‘Match-fixing, drugs and blackmail? Where does Stirling fit in all this?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’ Noah sounded cagey now.
With her head spinning, Darcy couldn’t stop anger bubbling to the surface. ‘And you still reckon getting these young men involved in sport is the best future you can offer them? This is crap. Stirling is crap.’ Just another betrayal by her father.
Noah sighed. ‘Not the time for that debate again, Darce. I’ll be there as soon as I can, but the way the fog’s rolled in it will be a slow drive. And that means the airport’s going to be closed for some time. They tell me it’s the same from Brisbane to Mackay so I have no idea when Witness Protection will land either.’
‘Right. I doubt I’ll be able to convince Conor to stick around. I’ll let you know what happens.’ She didn’t hide her annoyance.
‘Okay, but don’t do anything rash. I’ll be there soon.’
Darcy tapped the screen and disconnected. She stretched her neck from side to side as she yawned, trying to free the crick in it. Time to get moving. She pulled on a jacket and zipped it high under her chin. It hung to her knees and she had to roll the sleeves up. The scents of wood smoke, wet dog and Rosie’s perfume mingled together. Knowing how little Rosie actually owned made the size of her gift even more humbling. Darcy would make sure she added some extra money to her pay packet for a few weeks. The old lady was too proud to accept charity. Ironic.
Darcy could smell coffee. So he hadn’t done a runner, then. He was looking out the window at the front of the cottage, but the blanket of fog virtually obscured the sheds opposite. His shoulders were slumped, hands shoved into the pockets of a pair of trackpants that were in danger of sliding down his hips. Zeke’s, at a guess, Darcy thought.
‘Good morning.’
‘Is it?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Kettle’s just boiled. I hadn’t thought of this area being prone to fog.’
‘It’s not particularly, but sometimes the whole east coast goes under a white blanket. According to Noah, it’s going to be one of those days.’
‘Where is he?’
‘On his way, at least an hour away. He’s more concerned no flights will be able to land this morning.’
‘So no Witness Protection boys, then?’
‘No need to look so happy.’ She was still trying to digest Noah’s news. Could this man have been involved in blackmail? Maybe she was wrong to trust him?
He turned those dark eyes on her and she saw the shadows underscoring them and the hollowness of his cheeks. He still commanded respect. ‘I’m not happy, Darcy. I’m worried. To be honest, I’d say I’m scared. I want to be on the road again.’
‘You will be.’
He turned away with a smile that was all cynicism. She pulled her iPad out of her bag. Plenty of battery life and it had a strong signal. She logged on and made a cup of coffee as her emails downloaded. One from Stirling with his flight details. Due in at eleven o’clock. Fat chance of that. Two were from girlfriends; she left them for later. One was from the Fish R Biting website. A bit early for an order, but she clicked on it.
We know where you live, we know where you work, we know who you’re hiding. We know everything. He’s not worth it.
‘Shit,’ she swore.
‘What?’ Conor was beside her in three strides, reading over her shoulder. ‘Right. I’m gone.’
‘No.’ She grabbed his arm. ‘Let me give you some money first.’ She was certain Noah would be here before that could happen. ‘Please?’
‘No. Darcy, this is my problem. I need to fix this. Need to leave now before anyone else gets injured or worse.’
‘Bit late for that,’ Rosie said, framed in the doorway behind them, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. ‘Them bastards burnt my house down last night. Nothin’ left. Not even the dogs. They shot ’em.’
‘Rosie, no!’
Darcy rushed to her side, wrapped her arms around the woman’s heaving shoulders, hugging her as Rosie had done to her a hundred times before. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,’ she murmured, closing her eyes against the tears. She stood like that until Rosie’s sobs had subsided to shudders. ‘Come and sit down.’
‘No time for that,’ Rosie managed to say, wiping the back of her hand across her nose and wet cheeks. ‘They know you’re here. They beat Zeke up, real bad, forced him to talk. His dad’s taking him to hospital, but I came here. You need to go. I only come to warn you. Too much sorrow.’ Tears ran down her cheeks again. Conor was already shoving stuff into his bag. She shuffled a couple of steps towards him. ‘Sorrow follows you. You take your sorrow and leave here. Don’t come back.’
‘Oh, Rosie, Rosie,’ Darcy said. She was beyond angry now. How dare they do this to someone who had nothing to start with, someone so generous?
‘I’m going, Rosie.’ Conor stood in front of her, looking down at Rosie. The compassion was clear in his eyes, but so was the worry, the fear.
‘I’ll drive you to the servo,’ Darcy insisted. ‘With this sort of fog, you’ll never get a lift on the side of the road.’
He half shook his head, but she could see he knew she was right.
‘Rosie, I’m sorry but you’ll have to come with us. I’m not leaving you alone here after this.’
Rosie had gathered her composure and dignity again. ‘I’ll be right, Darce. I’ll take the tinnie back. See if there’s anything left. Maybe something. Maybe one of them dogs made a run for it.’ She tried to smile, but her mouth turned down at the corners and her eyes filled with tears again. Darcy was torn. She didn’t want to put Rosie in any more danger, but she didn’t want to leave her alone either.
