All of a sudden, Harry was wide awake, all boredom forgotten. Something had startled the grey, which jumped aside in panic, tossing his head and striking Peter under the chin. Perhaps a crab or a small ray had wriggled out from under the horse’s hooves. Momentarily dazed, Lanigan staggered, shaking his head to clear it.
‘Dad! Dad, are you all right?’ Already on his way back, the boy saw the incident, coming swiftly to his father’s aid and taking charge of both horses while the older man recovered himself.
‘Yeah. But we really should think about wearing helmets when we exercise the horses.’
‘Too hot.’ Ryan wrinkled his nose.
‘I know. But remind me to order some when we get home.’
Watching them, Harry had seen enough to give him the germ of an idea. He punched the air with glee. He could see now that this job could be wrapped up a whole lot sooner than he’d thought.
Later that evening, his head still aching from the trauma earlier in the day, Peter found himself exhausted. And he wasn’t looking forward to the conversation he needed to have with Ryan. Recently, he had taken Joanne to see Doctor Richards and the doctor had called him back into the room without her, wanting a private word. The news wasn’t good and he’d needed time to come to terms with it himself before sharing it with Ryan. He waited until Joanne had gone up to bed, having taken one of her new pills designed to help her sleep through the night.
‘Come on, Dad, what’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself all evening and I don’t think it’s only because of what happened with Tommy.’ His son had gone to the fridge. He took out two beers, cracked the top off both and handed him one. ‘Is it money again?’
‘I wish. That would be a problem I could do something about. No.’ Peter sighed. ‘It’s your mother.’
‘What? I thought she was so much better lately.’ He bit his lip, struck by a horrible thought. ‘She hasn’t got cancer, has she?’
‘It’s not that.’ Peter shook his head. ‘You know she’s always been fragile. Impractical. Charmingly vague, some people liked to call it.’
‘Her artistic temperament, you’ve always said.’
‘Yes. But lately, it’s been a lot worse. Doctor Richards thinks it might be a form of early dementia.’
‘What rubbish. Doctor Richards is talking through her hat. Take Mum to see someone else. She’s far too young to have that.’
‘I know. That’s what makes it so tragic. Her body will continue in good health long after her mind has packed up. Eventually, she won’t even recognize us.’
‘You can’t accept it – not just like that.’
‘This isn’t a new thing. Doctor Richards has been monitoring your mother’s progress for years. Some days are better than others but eventually, she’s going to need proper care in a nursing home.’
‘You can’t do that. I won’t let you shut Mum away with a lot of barmy old people wetting themselves. She doesn’t deserve it.’
‘Nobody does, Ryan.’
‘There must be some medication. Something to halt the process and stop it from happening.’
‘Doctor Richards is exploring all avenues. But she says we must be prepared for the worst.’
Feeling helpless in the face of this news, that night Ryan punched his pillow, unable to sleep, and felt incipient tears stinging the back of his throat. The following morning he awoke in the early hours as he always did, except he was plagued with a pounding headache, his eyes were streaming and he was feeling as if he’d picked up a summer flu.
‘Go back to bed, son,’ his father said. ‘You look awful and you’ll be no good to me or to Sprite today. I’ll phone Melia and get her to come out instead.’ And, before his son could raise any further objections, Peter reached for his phone and called her. She was a pleasant but ordinary girl who helped out at the stables and also rode track work for them. Nothing was too much trouble and she loved the animals, always anxious to please. An early riser like most horsewomen, she didn’t seem to mind being called at such an early hour – still the middle of the night to most people.
‘Love to help out, Mr Lanigan. Give me ten to get in and out of the shower and I’ll be there.’
‘Good girl, that,’ Peter remarked when he came off the phone. ‘Always willing to fit in.’
‘Only because she’s sweet on you.’ Ryan reached for the box of tissues and grabbed a handful before sneezing into them.
‘Bed,’ his father ordered, ignoring that last remark. ‘I’ll make breakfast for all of us when I get home.’
At the beach, Harry was already hidden behind a rock, waiting for the two men and their horses to arrive. With any luck this job could be wrapped up today and he could head south to claim his reward. With what he had planned, he wouldn’t get more than one chance and it would have to look right – the horse must be blamed. He had a few anxious moments as they were later than usual, but eventually he saw the two horses coming through the dunes to the beach. This time there was a girl riding the mare. He waited a while to see if the boy turned up which would mean he’d have to abandon his plans for today: he couldn’t keep an eye on three people at the same time. But he saw Peter gesticulate, instructing the girl to ride off up the beach while he himself led the big grey into the sea.
This morning, even the weather was on Harry’s side. A wind had got up, muffling sound, and the sea was quite choppy. The girl was an unknown factor in the equation; he could only hope she would keep riding on up the beach and wouldn’t look back until she returned.
As the girl disappeared into the distance, Harry ran swiftly towards Peter, who was leading the horse into the sea. Wearing only a pair of Hawaiian-patterned board shorts, he hoped to be taken for a tourist enjoying an early-morning swim.
‘G’day, mate.’ Peter smiled as Harry approached him. ‘You’re up bright an’ early.’
Those were the last words he said in this life. Before he had time to register any alarm, a fist came at him, delivering a knock-out punch to the jaw. He collapsed without so much as a murmur, and Harry caught him to make sure he was still breathing before holding his head under the water until no more bubbles came to the surface. There must be no suspicious marks or any evidence of an attack. His victim must appear to have been knocked out by the horse and swept off his feet to drown in the sea.
Spooked by this turn of events and the stranger among them, the big grey lurched out of the water and went to stand on the beach, shivering and regarding them. The animal sensed that something was terribly wrong.
While he was making quite sure his victim’s lungs were filling with water, Harry turned to look back up the beach to check that the other rider wasn’t on her way back. This was the tricky part. He couldn’t afford any witnesses. If the girl happened to see what he’d done and he had to dispose of her too, it would cause complications. It was reasonable to believe that one horseman could be knocked out and accidentally drown – but two? He squinted up the beach where he could just make her out, still riding away although the rocks were coming up fast; she wouldn’t be able to travel much further without turning back. When he was satisfied that no life remained in Peter Lanigan’s body, he tried to push it out into deeper water but it was no use: the tide was moving in and it kept coming back. The sun had risen properly now, lighting up the whole scene, and Harry needed to get out of there fast. He waded ashore and loped away from the beach, trying not to make too much haste and congratulating himself on a job well done. Riderless and unsure what to do, the big grey stood on the shore watching him leave, the only witness to his latest crime.
Less than half an hour later, leaving the other rider to make the horrifying discovery of Lanigan’s body lying face down in the shallows, Harry had packed up his camp, leaving no trace of his presence, and was already on his way south.
‘I don’t know what happened, Mum, but it was an accident. You can’t blame Tommy for this.’ Feeling close to falling apart himself, Ryan tried to reason with his mother, who was sobbing and shaking w
ith hysteria. ‘If you want to blame anyone, blame me. If I’d been there myself, I might have saved him. Melia wasn’t strong enough to pull him out of the sea. She turned him over and did the best she could, ringing emergency services right away, then she managed to get hold of both horses.’
‘Damn the horses! I never want to see either of them again.’ Joanne was seated in a basket chair on the veranda, rocking herself in her grief, almost suffocating the little Italian greyhound she held in her lap. ‘And don’t talk to me about Melia. I told her she’s not welcome here any more and not to come back.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that, Mum. I’ll need all the help I can get.’
‘Not if you get rid of the horses.’
‘Well,’ Ryan muttered. ’We’ll have to see about that.’ He had no intention of selling Tommy and Sprite, or managing the stables without Melia’s help. His father might no longer be here, but he was determined to continue and enlarge the venture Peter had started, rather than part with their horses.
‘What did you say?’
‘Nothing. And don’t hold Tinka so hard, you’re strangling the poor dog.’
‘Oh.’ Joanne released the little dog, which ran away to hide under the table.
‘I’m so sorry, Ryan,’ Melia said when he finally tracked her down at her sister’s place where she was babysitting the children. ‘But I can’t work where I’m not wanted. Your mother blames me for what happened to Pete—’
‘But I don’t and I’m the one you’ll be working for. You’re our track rider too. I’d rather muck out the stables myself and let the lads go.’
‘But your mother said there won’t be any work as she’s selling the horses.’
‘Take no notice of Mum. She’s half mad with grief, besides being—’ He hesitated, feeling it would be disloyal to mention his mother’s illness.
‘Being what?’
‘Never mind. She was upset and if you stay out of her way, she won’t even remember you’re there. She’s very forgetful these days.’
‘Well, OK. I’ll help out for the sake of the horses. But if she shouts at me like that again and says awful things, I shall leave and I won’t be back.’
‘OK. If you come in the early hours of the morning and leave before nine, she won’t see you. She takes pills to help her sleep and never gets up before ten.’
‘All right.’ Melia still sounded doubtful. ‘But I’m gone at the first sign of trouble.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘I DON’T GET it.’ Valerie stared at her husband, surprised by the suggestion he had just made. ‘You’ve shut Peter out of your life for years. Why is it now so important to go to his funeral?’
Robert sighed, his expression pained. ‘Because that’s what families do, Val. I need closure as well as to pay my respects. I know we had our differences but Peter was still my brother.’
Val heard this with narrowed eyes, still unconvinced. ‘But why would you waste time driving all that way instead of going by air? I can’t see the round trip taking less than two weeks. And time is money, isn’t it? So you always say.’
‘Because I’m taking a horsebox, that’s why. I want to get hold of Hunter’s Moon before that boy panics and sells him.’
‘Well, if it troubles you that much – why not fly up? You’ll be there that much sooner and you can hire a car and a horsebox on the spot.’ Val was teasing – not quite believing he was serious in his intent.
‘Don’t be stupid. They could give me anything. A box that hasn’t been properly cleaned – full of germs and God knows what tropical diseases. A hire car that breaks down as soon as I’m out on the open road—’
‘Oh, I get it. This journey has nothing to do with paying your last respects to your brother. It’s always about money and horses with you, isn’t it? You can’t bear to let even one get away from you. If you wanted this horse so badly, why didn’t you outbid Peter at the auction and save yourself time and trouble? It isn’t as if you’re short of money, is it?’
Robert scowled. ‘The trouble with you, Val, is that you try to make everything seem so logical. As it happens, I was short of money that day. The horse that we brought to Sydney had failed and the owners wanted to sell it on the spot. On top of that, they’d given me a hefty deposit to buy them another horse at the sales but of course, having lost faith in me, they wanted their money back. And that left me with a cash-flow problem just at the time I needed more money to buy Hunter’s Moon.’
‘I see.’
‘But fate has delivered the perfect opportunity for me to get him back. D’you think that boy has any idea how to care for a champion, let alone train him? I don’t like to see a promising horse go to waste.’
‘I still think it’s unfeeling. We don’t know what their plans are – or if they have any. They’ll still be in shock. If you’re determined to go, we should fly up together to give Joanne our support. She’ll be glad of another woman’s company at such a time. You should leave your concerns about horses till later.’
‘And then they’ll have sold Hunter’s Moon to somebody else.’ Robert’s temper rose along with his voice, making her blink. ‘What makes you think Joanne would welcome you, anyway?’
‘Why shouldn’t she? You were the one who upset her, not me.’
‘Well, we don’t need to go into that now. And there’s no point in discussing it further because I’m going alone. Haven’t you enough on your plate with Chrissie’s wedding?’
‘Yes, but we still need to talk this through—’
Then Valerie stopped and sighed as she realized she was talking to herself. Robert had left the room.
Halfway through the boring and arduous journey north on roads that seemed to go on forever, he was beginning to wish he’d let Val come with him, after all. At least she could have shared the driving. Faced with travelling up the inland highways to Brisbane and beyond, through cane fields, miles of open countryside and subtropical scrub, he found himself missing her endless chatter about lists of wedding guests and whether more people could be invited if they had a buffet rather than a ‘sit down’ meal. At one point, he caught himself nodding off and almost drove into a tree at the side of the road. That gave him such a jolt of adrenaline that he was wide awake for the next few hours.
He knew his brother’s funeral was being delayed to accommodate him but he realized he needed to take more breaks to drink coffee and stretch his legs. Better to arrive in one piece rather than not at all.
Ryan felt a deep resentment against his uncle for the unnecessary delay. He knew Robert had never cared much for his younger brother, so why did he have to come here now he was gone? It didn’t make any sense. Nor was he looking forward to meeting him. Dad had rarely spoken of his older brother but what little he did say wasn’t good. Ryan’s impression was of a teasing bully, hell-bent on having his own way in all things. And, although it was presently no more than a feeling in the pit of his stomach, he knew that all wasn’t quite as it seemed. Robert wouldn’t come all this way for nothing – he must have a hidden agenda. As soon as he heard of his brother’s death, he’d announced his intention to drive north immediately. Drive? Did he have any idea how far from Melbourne that was? It would take a week to accomplish what a flight would achieve in a single day. Why would he drive all that way just to stay a few days for the funeral? No. There was something else he was missing. Going over their brief conversation, Ryan felt as if he’d been dismissed, treated as if he were no more than ten years old. It felt like a verbal pat on the head. His uncle had told him not to worry as he would take charge of all the arrangements. Ryan couldn’t help feeling these arrangements might mean a lot more than Peter’s funeral.
His mother agreed with him; she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Robert either, particularly as he was coming alone. Her mind kept returning to the rough treatment and near rape she had received at his hands and she shivered. As her husband’s only surviving relative it wouldn’t be right to deny him the chance to say goodbye. She c
ould only hope that he wouldn’t stay long. Ryan was quick to pick up on her mood.
‘You don’t like Uncle Robert, do you, Mum?’
‘I thought I did. A long time ago. But now he scares me.’
‘Scares you?’ Ryan frowned.
‘No, that’s not quite what I mean. He intimidates me.’
‘Hah! He’d better not try intimidation while I’m around.’
‘Now don’t go looking for trouble, Ryan. He has an awful temper. Just agree with whatever he says and we’ll change it to suit ourselves when he’s gone.’
Somehow Ryan had the feeling it wasn’t going to be as simple as that.
All his misgivings came rushing back a week later when Robert drove up to the house, pulling a horsebox behind his massive Range Rover, both car and trailer covered in mud and dust from the road.
‘What a horrible journey.’ Robert greeted his nephew with false heartiness and a wide smile. ‘I won’t try that again in a hurry.’
‘Uncle Robert.’ He greeted the man with a tight smile and folded arms. Somehow he didn’t feel like shaking hands and he saw Robert wasn’t offering to do so either. Physically, the man was nothing like his father, except he was tall. Robert was almost obese, had a florid, unhealthy complexion, lines of discontent on his face and a hard expression in his eyes. There was little about him to like.
‘Well, well. Young Ryan, isn’t it? You look just like your mother. I don’t see much of your father in you at all.’
Riding the Storm Page 3
