Home to Eden

by Margaret Way

  Dot busied herself pouring. The scones looked light and fluffy—Nicole wasn’t surprised—topped with strawberry jam.

  “Had to rush out and get that,” Dot said, smiling. For all her gauntness, her expression was the same as ever—sweet, patient, gentle. She indicated the jam. “I’m so thrilled you’re here, Nicole. It’s like a dream.”

  “I always wrote to you, Dot. Kept up the phone calls,” Nicole reminded her, hating to think of Dot miserable.

  “I know, love. I’ve got all your letters. I’ve read and reread them so much they’re falling to bits. You’re so beautiful. So much like your mother but not like her, if you know what I mean. I keep your mother’s portrait on my bedside table. Lovely, lovely lady. Such a tragedy you were denied her. I mustn’t cry. Mustn’t cry,” she chided herself. A tear splashed.

  “Don’t upset yourself, Dot. Please don’t.” Nicole moved to the dreadful lumpy couch and hugged Dot’s bony shoulders. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “Not near as happy as me, love,” Dot said promptly. “This can be a lonely life.”

  “Exactly!” Nicole gazed, puzzled, into her old nanny’s face. “What I don’t understand is why it has to be.”

  Again as if stalling, Dorothy passed the tea. Nicole stared at the cups and saucers, the milk jug and the sugar bowl thoughtfully. Aynsley. Rather beautiful. White with a gold and ultramarine border. She knew it.

  “Your grandmother wanted me to have this,” Dot said proudly. “Do you remember the piece?”

  “I think I do.”

  “This is the first time I’ve ever used this china,” Dot admitted. “It’s too good.”

  Nicole leaned closer, accepting her tea. “It’s meant to be used, Dot. You really must. Why do you think Gran gave it to you.”

  “What if I broke a piece?” Dot asked dramatically.

  “I have complete confidence you won’t. Anyway, it’s yours.”

  “I know.” Dot smiled with pleasure. “She gave me other things, too. Lovely linen and towels and things.”

  “I hope you’re using them.”

  Dot blushed. “I think I enjoy looking at them more than using them. I’d never get the sheets and pillow-cases to look like that again. So white and smooth.”

  “Trust me, Dot. They’ll come up beautifully. Quality always does.” Nicole took a sip of her tea. She wasn’t much of a tea drinker—found the taste vaguely medicinal. She set the cup down into the saucer.

  “Is there some mystery about why you left Eden, Dot? Something you can’t answer?”

  Dot bent her head, looking as if she was fighting off tears. “The truth is, love, I lost my role long ago. I was no use to anybody. I had to go.”

  “Never in this world!” Nicole protested strongly. “Had to, Dot? That’s not right at all. Siggy said you wanted to go. Gran was under the impression you did. From what I can see, you’re thoroughly miserable here on your own.”

  “It’s okay,” Dot said, grasping Nicole’s hand with one sudden distraught movement. “Really it is, love. Your aunt took care of me. I can’t work anymore.”

  “Why would you need to work?” Nicole asked gently. “You spent years and years looking after Joel and me. You can’t move out just like that. In fact, I implore you to come back.”

  Dot looked away, red-cheeked, glittery-eyed. “I can’t, love. Mr. Holt would drive me out of the house again.”

  Nicole was so shocked she laughed. “What does Mr. Holt have to do with anything? He holds no responsible position at Eden. He’s my aunt’s husband. He’s tolerated. You know that. You lived with us. You saw everything.”

  Dot’s “yes” was almost inaudible.

  “Are you telling me Mr. Holt, not Siggy, wanted you sacked? I refuse to believe it.”

  Dot began to fidget with a fold of her skirt. “I decided it was best to go. I told Miss Sigrid I wanted to go. She questioned me just like you. She was very surprised, a bit insulted, but I knew for some time I had to go.”

  Nicole looked at her in bewilderment. “There’s a story here, Dot,” she prompted. “Please tell me. What did Joel say, for instance? You were just as good to him as you were to me. Surely he had something to say about your going.”

  Dot snorted her contempt for that. “Joel didn’t care anything for me, or anyone else as far as I could see. His heart belongs to you. He kept out of it, but I’d say he sided with his father, not that they talk much.”

  “So you felt Mr. Holt wanted you gone, but he never actually said anything to you?”

  Dot cocked her gray head. “That man, lovey, is a trained actor. He’s anything he wants to be. If you want to know, I’m frightened of him. That’s really the case.”

  “Good God!” Nicole’s gaze turned inward. She was seeing Alan’s smooth impassive face, the gentlemanly facade. “Who could be frightened of Alan?” Her voice rose in amazement. “He’s never shown himself to be anything other than harmless.”

  “Do you really know him, love?” Dot clutched Nicole’s shoulder. “I thought I knew my husband before I married him. I thought he was a good man, going to look after me. I married a monster.”

  Nicole gave Dot a look full of outrage for the things that had been done to Dot during her violent marriage. “He’ll pay for his crimes, Dot, if he hasn’t paid already. Leave him to the hereafter. But what makes you couple your husband with Mr. Holt? On the face of it, it’s a mind-boggling accusation.” She threw up her hands. “Alan’s not physically violent. He wouldn’t dream of laying a rough hand on a woman.”

  Dot looked painfully unconvinced. “I don’t want to sully his name. All I’m saying is I have this fear of him. Deep down here.” She pressed a hand to her chest.

  “But there’s got to be a reason,” Nicole persisted, coming to the sad conclusion Dot was more than a little paranoid. Not that anyone could possibly blame her. “Has he ever done anything to make you wonder he might have some serious problems? Has he been unkind to you? Has he shouted at you? Given you dirty looks? Complained about you to Aunt Siggy?”

  Dot spread her hands, the knuckles swollen and knotted. “I just sensed it, love.”

  That wasn’t entirely sane, was it? Nicole made her voice soothing. “Could it be you had such a frightful time with your husband that some aspect of Mr. Holt’s looks or behavior triggers those old feelings? You were terribly abused, Dot.” Physically, mentally, sexually. Deeply traumatized. Nicole knew as well as anyone how that created lifelong problems.

  “That man’s got secrets,” Dot said with considerable doggedness. “Like my man. They look okay. They can even act okay, but they’re twisted. There’s something dark inside them. If you ask me, it’s the devil.”

  “I’ve never seen it, Dot.” Nicole spoke the simple truth.

  “Because everyone loves you. They were there to protect you. Rich powerful people. I had nothing like that. You never wanted for courage or confidence. You couldn’t care less when your dad shouted at you. I had neither. Archie cleared me out of that. I lost the ability to have children. He did that to me.”

  Nicole rubbed Dot’s arm up and down in an effort to console her. “Dot, dear, this seems to be all tied up with your husband. So many terrible things happened to you that you’re still fearful. You’re attaching far too much importance to Alan Holt’s behavior. I’d say he’s been eccentric all his life.”

  Dot suddenly recalled a detail of great moment. “Do you know that man was crazily in love with your mother?” she asked, her smile grim. “I’m sure of it.”

  Nicole braced herself for more disclosures. “Did you see something to support that?”

  Put on the spot, Dot shook her head. “Nothing I could report to anyone. It was all up here.” She tapped her furrowed forehead. “I know he used to claim he was somewhere when he was someplace else. I do know that for a fact, but it wouldn’t have paid me to tell anyone. Not your Granddad. He despised the man. Only put up with him because of your aunt.”

  Nicole tensed, sitting upri
ght on the dreadful sofa. “Where was he at the time my mother and David McClelland were killed?”

  Dot met her eyes. “He claimed he was at Koomera Crossing picking up supplies.”

  “Are you saying he lied? People saw him, Dot. They saw him in town. They saw him sleeping in his vehicle. That was pretty much checked out. Alan was never a suspect. He had no reason…”

  Dot’s voice fell to a whisper. “He never came home that night.”

  “Much too far to drive, Dot. That’s easily explained. My mother would never have been afraid of Alan.”

  “She was like you, love. Afraid of nothing. But it pays to watch the people around you. I always do. You never know who might be mad. He’s an odd, odd man. He never helped his boy. He never took any interest in him, even though Joel has something of his father in him. More’s the pity!”

  Nicole was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Why don’t you have any snapshots of Joel? They’re all of me.”

  “Because you were a precious child!” Dot smiled. “I loved you. You were such a bright little girl, full of life. No malice. No spite.”

  “I should hope not, Dot. That sounds terrible. But I was naughty. I do remember that.”

  “What’s naughty? Nothing!” Dot scoffed. “You were sunny and loving. ’Course, your granddad spoiled you something rotten, but it never changed your nature. You treated me right. You were affectionate, always showing your emotions. Never hid them away like your cousin.”

  “But you can’t interpret a natural reserve as malice and spite, can you, Dot?” Nicole went to Joel’s defense. “Joel just didn’t have my temperament.”

  “You always did stick up for him,” Dot said. “I used to worry about it, all your taking the blame.”

  “It was a two-way thing. Joel’s my cousin. I love him.”

  “Not as powerfully as he loves you,” Dot said, groaning. “A different way. He’s a bit nutty, like his father.”

  Nicole heaved a deep sigh. “Dot, I want you to know there’s no one on Eden to hurt you. In any case, I’m home now. How could you be frightened with me around? I want you back.”

  “No, love.” There was a tremor in Dot’s voice. “I don’t know what that man’s going to do next.”

  Nicole stared sightlessly at the bookcase, thinking that Dot might need care. “I’ve come especially to take you home. I want you home.”

  “No, love,” Dot said again, and shook her head several times, the picture of misery. “The fact is, I’m frightened to come. And I believe you should go away. Back to America. Sell Eden. Go away.”

  “I can’t do that, Dot. Eden is my home. I love it. It’s part of me. I cannot, will not, part with it.”

  Dot drew a shaky hand across her mouth as if to zip it. “I understand, love. How is Joel?”

  “He’s all right, though perhaps he’s not the best person in the world to run Eden since Granddad died.”

  “Who could match your granddad?” Dot said simply. “How is Joel with you now you’re home?”

  “Fine, I guess. I’m starting to recognize he’s a bit too attached to me.”

  Dot listened with averted gaze. “Send him away,” she advised in a trembling voice. “Him and his dad. Your mother wanted to.”

  Nicole stared at her. “You’re sure of that?”

  “Yes, love.” Dot nodded her head emphatically.

  “What about Aunt Siggy?”

  “That’s up to you. Miss Sigrid’s a good person. Unhappy underneath. Marrying the wrong man didn’t help much. Neither did seeing him fall in love with her sister. Not that Miss Corrinne ever looked his way.”

  Nicole flinched, running a dismayed hand through her hair. “God, Dot, I was always watching,” she protested. “I never saw anything. I was just a kid, but I was never stupid. In fact, I was positively nosey.”

  For the first time Dot laughed. Very gently she took Nicole’s face and kissed it. “Didn’t I used to tell you you were too smart? Same as your mama. But you just missed that one thing, though.”

  By now Nicole felt unspeakably sad and confused. “I’m going to ask you a very important question, Dot. If you love me, I beg you to answer it truthfully.”

  Dot’s face paled as if she was about to be asked more than she could answer. “What is it, child?”

  “Is Heath Cavanagh my father, or did my mother deceive him?” Nicole burst out.

  Dot’s expression was genuinely shocked. “Why, how wrong you are to question that, Nicole!” she chided. “We’re talking about your mother here. Miss Corrinne. Of course Heath Cavanagh is your father. Never doubt it. Lord, girl, you really can’t see that your mother would never have married him if she’d been carrying David McClelland’s child? Shame on you, Nicole. Shame.”

  Nicole lowered her head, feeling chastened. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself asking. Heath’s back on Eden. He’s come home to die. He’s very ill.”

  “And you’ve taken him in, believing he mightn’t be your father?” Dot asked.

  “Pity overcame everything else.”

  “Because you’ve got a good heart. That’s one of your outstanding qualities. But sometimes you do tend to be pigheaded.”

  “I know. Thank you, Dot.” Nicole smiled. “Isn’t there something I could say to change your mind? I can’t leave you here.” She looked around. “You really won’t come?”

  “No, love.” Dot sounded very sure.

  Nicole patted her hand. “Then would you allow me to find you a nice little villa in a good retirement village? The best Brisbane has to offer, or the Gold Coast with its lovely beaches. You need company, friends. Quality facilities. Meals and cleaning taken care of. Attractive grounds to roam in. Would you like that?”

  Dot’s eyes brightened, then gradually faded. “I’ve got to watch the pennies, love. Miss Sigrid gave me a lot of money, but sometimes dying isn’t easy. I could last for years and years. My mum died in her nineties.”

  “I swear you will, too. You’re family,” Nicole said, taking Dot’s hand. “From now on, you’re going to let me look after you properly, because that’s what I want.”

  Dot reached out and squeezed Nicole’s hand. Her tears of joy were the only response Nicole needed.

  THE PHONE RANG in her hotel suite. Nicole, quickly unlocking the door, ran to it. It was Drake.

  “How’s your day been?”

  “Great. How was yours?” Just the sound of his voice had her blood bubbling. When happiness comes, you can’t ignore it even though it could lead to greater unhappiness, she thought, grabbing it before it was gone.

  “Just a moment,” he said, obviously turning away to speak to someone in the background.

  A murmur of voices, then he was back on the line. “Sorry about that. The meeting went a lot better than expected. And a lot longer. The premier is a good bloke. He listens. Did you find your dress?”

  “I did.” Nicole had gone shopping for most of the afternoon.

  “You can tell me about it over dinner. I’ll pick you up around seven-thirty if that’s okay? I thought we could walk from the hotel to the restaurant. Five minutes or so. It’s good and it’s on the river.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “So am I.” Even as he was hanging up, she could hear voices in the background trying to get his attention. Probably reporters.

  She’d bought more than the outfit for Shelley and Brock’s wedding. She’d indulged herself further by buying a dress for tonight. A soft sexy number she found so irresistible she’d never even asked the price. It was a satin wrap dress in a beautiful shade of mulberry.

  She was ready before time, incredibly because she wasn’t vain taking many a long look at herself, turning this way and that. Checking. Double-checking. She knew she dressed well. She had good taste—fortunately she could afford to have—but she had never gone all out for allure. This dress was deliciously alluring and fit beautifully.

  Stop looking at yourself, Nicole, she admonished, turning away determinedly from
her reflection. Drake was the cause of this. He was on her mind all the time. She planned to tell him about her visit to Dot over dinner, the disturbing things Dot had said. Not familiar with retirement villages and how they were run, she had rung the family solicitors asking if one of the secretaries could check out the situation for her and get back. She wanted to see Dot settled in a more cheerful environment. She wanted to help her choose the furniture. Pick out a decent sofa, for a start. The cottage had been rented furnished, and Dot had avoided making a few purchases of her own, convinced she would outlast her mother.

  THE RESTAURANT had sweeping views of the river and the city’s nighttime glitter through its floor-to-ceiling windows. The decor was very classy, discreetly opulent with gilt-framed mirrors reflecting the exquisite arrangements of flowers—lots of tropical orchids—the elegant furnishings and the well-dressed guests. Probably all of them regulars who knew a gastronomic experience when they had one. The chef, they learned from the back of the beautifully presented menu, was a young Franco-Japanese who had recently won a prestigious award from a field of the country’s most highly skilled and exciting chefs. The judge had been very enthusiastic in his praise for what was happening on the Australian scene and the important part the cuisine of Southeast Asia had played in it.

  “Hungry?” Drake asked, letting his eyes roam over her. She looked so stunning this evening he thought he would carry the memory forever. The color of her dress, so unusual, highlighted the ruby flash of her hair and emphasized the perfection of her skin. Quite extraordinarily it also turned her eyes an iridescent blue.

  “Starving!” Her smiling eyes locked with his. “I had a cup of tea and a scone with my old nanny many long hours ago. You remember Dot?”

  “Of course I do. Siggy sacked her.”

  “No, she didn’t. I’ll tell you what happened if you’re interested.”

  “I’m more interested in you.” He reached out and gently touched her hand. “You look exquisite. I’m utterly bewitched.”

  “You’ve told me that before, but you can tell me again.”