Past Remembering

by Lyn Denison

  “Bags?” Peri Moyland repeated, obviously taken aback.

  “Asha’s going to be staying with us. I thought I mentioned that. Oh, dear. It must have slipped my mind. Things do these days. Not to worry. I thought she could use Dickie’s study, and I’ve given her the room opposite. I thought it would be easier for her to work on our little project. I’ll get Joe to bring in your things, Asha.”

  “Oh, I can manage.” Asha felt in the pocket of her dress jeans for her car keys. “I travel fairly lightly. Oh, and where shall I park my car?”

  Vivienne stepped down onto the veranda, and Peri quickly took her arm to steady her.

  “Now, where is that young man?” Vivienne scanned the immaculate gardens.

  “I’ll get him.” Peri Moyland strode along the veranda and disappeared around the corner of the house.

  “Tsk! Tsk!” Vivienne made a clucking noise. “Peri has a heart of gold, but she worries too much about me.” She lowered her voice again. “She’s had a bad trot just lately. Her wretched young man ran off with her best friend. That was a year ago now, and she took the breakup very badly. It even affected her health.”

  “Oh, dear,” Asha said.

  “As I said, her grandmother, Grace, is my best friend. We went to school together as young girls, and we’ve been close all through our married lives.” Vivienne sighed. “I know Grace has been very worried about Peri. She’s such a self-possessed, private sort of person now, so different from the bubbling child she was.”

  Then Peri Moyland was returning, striding purposefully along the veranda, followed by a young Adonis.

  “Oh, Joe. Good. We need your help,” Vivienne said, and Joe’s handsome face broke into a grin.

  “Sure thing, Mrs. C.”

  Asha felt her own eyebrows go up in reluctant admiration. Joe was a very handsome young man. She guessed he was a few years younger than she was, his sleeveless top showing his bulging biceps while his short shorts and work boots displayed long, muscular legs. As Asha’s gaze ran up over his torso to his rugged face, Joe’s eyes met hers and he gave her a cheeky half wink that made her smile reluctantly. Asha’s gaze then moved to Peri Moyland and the other woman’s lips pursed in disapproval.

  Ah! Asha reflected. Was there some history between Peri Moyland and the young Adonis? Asha almost laughed. If Peri only knew. Her toy boy was as safe as the Bank of England with Asha.

  “Joe’s uncle has been keeping our gardens magnificently for years,” Vivienne put in. “And Joe’s filling in for him while he’s off on sick leave. You might recognize Joe,” she continued. “He’s something of a celebrity.”

  Asha looked back at the smiling Joe and frowned. He did look vaguely familiar. “Joe Deneen,” she said as recognition dawned. “You play for the Broncos.”

  Joe inclined his head. “You follow league?”

  Asha nodded. “Yes. I’ve been to a few games, but lately my young sister has been pressuring me to attend some soccer matches. Her boyfriend, Danny Cleary, plays for City.”

  “I’ve seen him play. Wouldn’t be surprised if he gets an offer from the UK.” Joe chuckled. “But don’t tell anyone I even know what soccer is, though. They might drum me out of my league team.”

  Asha laughed too. “It’ll be our little secret.”

  “So. What needs doing, Mrs. C?”

  “Could you bring Asha’s cases upstairs and then park her car around by the garage?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’ll just get my notebook.” Asha opened the front passenger side door and took out her computer and her small backpack before handing Joe her keys. “There’s just one case in the boot.”

  Joe flashed her another grin. “Consider it done. Nice to meet you, Asha.” He went around to the back of the car and lifted the boot lid.

  “Come on inside,” Vivienne said, “and I’ll show you to your room.”

  Asha followed her into the house, fancying she felt vibes of displeasure from Peri Moyland as she walked in behind her.

  The foyer opened into a wide hallway with an equally wide staircase leading upward on the left. Through an open door on the right, Asha glimpsed what appeared to be a formal dining room, with a rich, dark polished wood table and high-backed carved chairs. An ancient intricately carved grandfather clock ticked away by the dining room doorway. Asha exclaimed at the wonderful house and Vivienne smiled, obviously pleased.

  They crossed the beautiful parquetry and Vivienne sat herself down on the elevator seat that had been installed on the staircase. “Not that I can’t walk up the staircase,” she told Asha. “It just takes me forever. My old bones are slower these days. That’s the definite downside to being over eighty. I have to live with my limitations.”

  “You seem to be doing fine to me,” Asha said as she started up the stairs beside her.

  “No sense complaining. Oh, Peri, are you coming with us, my dear?”

  “No, Viv. I need to make a few phone calls. I’ll do that in the living room.”

  Asha watched Peri Moyland walk down the hallway to the right of the stairs. When she’d disappeared, Asha turned back to catch up with Vivienne Chaseley as her chair slid upward. At the top, Asha took her arm to steady her as she stood up.

  “Thank you, dear. Now, I’ve put you down here.” She led the way down a short hallway on the left, pausing at the sound of footfalls behind them.

  Joe Deneen came toward them carrying Asha’s case with ease.

  “That was quick, Joe. In there, please.” Vivienne indicated the door on the right, and Joe gave Asha her car keys before carrying her case inside.

  Vivienne opened the door on the left and Asha followed her into a large comfortable room. Bookcases and cabinets hugged the free wall space and natural light poured in through the two sets of open French doors, one in front of Asha and one to the side.

  “This used to be my husband, Dickie’s, study.” Vivienne indicated the painting on the right wall. “That’s us not long after we were married.”

  Asha walked over for a closer look. She recognized Vivienne’s features. She was a pleasant-looking young woman and the same smile lit her face. Her husband was only just taller than she was with a thickset build, and his compelling dark eyes drew Asha’s attention. Although his expression was serious, he looked as though he was happy with his life.

  “No matter how hard he admonished me, the painter couldn’t get me not to smile.” Vivienne stood beside Asha, looking up at the portrait. “I was so happy. I felt my aimless life had taken on some purpose. Richard, Dickie’s son, needed me, and I needed Dickie and Richard. My life had been so empty for so long. I had the family I’d yearned for, and then we had Nicolas and Rosemary to complete it. Dickie wasn’t my first love, nor I his, but we loved each other and had a good life.”

  “You make an attractive couple.”

  “Go on with you! Dickie and I were hardly attractive, but we were comfortable.” She turned away. “And he loved this room. It’s only fitting you write his family’s story here.”

  Asha ran her hand over the rich polished wood desktop. “This is just beautiful.”

  “It was Dickie’s father’s desk.” Vivienne smiled, her expression reflecting a visit to the past. “That desk was something Dickie treasured.” She gave a sigh. “I feel so close to him in this room. And as I said, it seems just fitting somehow that you work in here. And if you want a break to relax a little, I’ve had Joe put a couple of loungers out on the veranda.” Vivienne led Asha through the open French doors.

  Asha murmured appreciatively as she gazed at the view.

  “The veranda wraps right around the house and the view is three hundred and sixty degrees. Back there are the mountains, and around there we have the river sweeping toward the city center. When my grandson was a boy, he’d chart the ships on the river. Now, come on back in and I’ll show you your room.”

  Asha followed her back through the study and across the hall. Joe had left the door open and they walked inside.
/>   The room opposite the study was large and equally as airy and light. It was furnished with a comfortable looking double bed covered by a handmade quilt, a chest of drawers with an ornate mirror and two equally comfortable lounge chairs. Joe had set her suitcase on a stand. The French doors were open and the curtains moved in the breeze blowing in across the veranda.

  “In here is your own en suite”—Vivienne indicated one door—“and in there is a closet for your clothes. Behind those doors you’ll find a microwave and a small refrigerator. We’ve had the house modernized over the years. No point in living in an uncomfortable mausoleum, Dickie used to say. When our son was married we built an extension out over the garage for him and Sara so they could have a little privacy. Richard and his daughter, Megan, still live there. Richard’s son, Timothy, has his own flat in the city and he comes and goes. But they’re all in Melbourne on a holiday at the moment, so it fits in having you work on our project while they’re away. So, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s wonderful.” Asha smiled. “And I can’t wait to get started.”

  Vivienne beamed at her. “I think you should get settled in first. I’ll leave you to get unpacked and in, say”—she looked at her small gold wristwatch—“half an hour, we’ll have some afternoon tea. Just go back down the stairs and turn left down the hall. The morning room is on the right after the living room. I’ll be there.” She reached out and patted Asha’s arm. “I’m just so excited to have you here.”

  “And I’m happy and grateful to be here.”

  With that, Vivienne left Asha alone. She gave a sigh of pleasure as she glanced around the room again. What an incredible house it was. She couldn’t wait to describe it all to her stepmother and Michelle. And Vivienne Chaseley was so nice. Asha’s thoughts turned to Peri Moyland. Vivienne might be pleased to have her here, but Peri Moyland obviously wasn’t. Oh well, she reflected, one out of two wasn’t too bad. She bit off a chuckle and began to unpack.

  Asha put her clothes in the closet and carried her computer and her little upright scanner into the study. Then she returned to her room to wash her face and comb her hair. She paused to regard herself in the mirror.

  Her short, dark hair, cut in what her stepmother called a shaggy cut, was her best feature, in Asha’s opinion. It was thick and kept its style with little attention. And her eyes were brown and unremarkable. A pleasant face, also pretty unremarkable, Asha thought ruefully.

  She wrinkled her nose at her reflection and then smiled. A small dimple appeared in her left cheek and she sighed. It might have been nice to have a matching one in the other cheek. Kissed by an angel, her stepmother always told her when she was a little girl.

  Asha straightened her cream short-sleeved knit shirt over her jean-clad hips. Not svelte-like but passable, she decided. She ran her hands over her breasts, wishing she were a little less curvaceous. She pushed that out of her mind. Her figure hadn’t bothered her until Tessa had drawn her attention to it.

  Tessa had been stretched out on the bed one morning critically watching Asha dress for work. “You know, if you got a breast reduction, you’d have the perfect figure,” Tessa had said lightly enough.

  “A breast reduction?”

  “Mmm. You’re a bit top heavy, don’t you think?”

  Asha had cringed, feeling her shoulders instinctively round in an effort to disguise her breast size. “Apart from the cost I don’t think I could cope with that,” she said defensively. “I’m not that big anyway. Am I?”

  Tessa shrugged and gave a slow smile. “Maybe Dolly Parton’s record is safe. Just.”

  Asha straightened her shoulders, reminding herself she wasn’t going to give anything Tessa had said any credence. She turned away from the mirror as a blanket of depression began to settle over her. She stepped out onto the veranda and crossed to the railings. On this side of the house leafy suburbs stretched away to the mountains. She moved around the corner, in front of the study, and the riverside suburb was spread out below, skirting the wide Brisbane River. It was a beautiful scene.

  Suddenly Asha wished she had someone to share it with. Would Tessa … ? Asha stopped her wayward thoughts, knowing Tessa wouldn’t take the time to get any pleasure from the peace, the beauty. Asha sighed.

  Love, she thought wryly, could lift you up or tear you down. In retrospect, Tessa had gone about her destruction with the subtle chipping away of Asha’s self-esteem. And it had almost worked, Asha knew. Sometimes, in low moments, Asha felt Tessa had been more successful than Asha wanted to acknowledge.

  She drew herself up to her full height. Tessa was the past. This was now. The new Asha. An Asha who wouldn’t let anyone close enough to cause such pain again.

  For some reason the serious face of Peri Moyland came into her mind. Vivienne had told her Peri had had a bad relationship breakup, too. Asha’s lips twisted. As much as the idea might horrify the disapproving Peri, it would seem Asha and Peri had more in common than Peri knew.

  Asha realized she was smiling and admonished herself. Misery apparently did love company.

  She took one last look at the view, knowing she would enjoy describing it to her stepmother and sister. She’d even take some photos to show them. She turned away and retraced her steps to her room. It was time to rejoin Vivienne for afternoon tea.

  Asha walked down the staircase and turned toward the sun-room where Vivienne said she’d be waiting. As she approached the end of the hall, following the soft murmur of voices, her footfalls silent on the thick carpet, she stopped in surprise as she heard her name mentioned.

  “Who is this Asha West anyway?” asked a familiar husky voice.

  “I told you, dear. She’s a researcher,” Vivienne replied. “She’s going to do a family history for Richard for his birthday. It’s his sixtieth, something of a milestone. I can’t believe he’s that old. It seems like yesterday he was a little boy.”

  “Does she have any credentials?”

  “Who, dear?” murmured Vivienne.

  “Asha West,” said Peri Moyland patiently. “Did you check her references?”

  “Of course I did. She’s highly respected by the Genealogical Society, and I told you I’ve seen the book she produced for Betty Peterson. It was wonderful. Beautifully done.”

  “She seems far too young to be a fully qualified genealogist.”

  “She’s twenty-five, only three years younger than you are.”

  “Oh.” Peri paused. “She looks a lot younger. Did she actually show you her qualifications?”

  “Yes, she did. And apart from that, Peri, I like her.”

  “But to have her stay in your home? Isn’t that risky when you don’t know a thing about her?”

  “I don’t think so. And I know a lot about her. She’s a librarian, you know, as well as a genealogist.”

  “I just think there are some unscrupulous people around these days and you’re far too trusting, Viv.”

  Asha knew she should make her presence known, but she held back.

  “You worry too much, Peri,” Vivienne said. “Besides, don’t you think I’ve learned a little bit about human nature in my eighty-plus years? You take my word for it, Asha West is trustworthy. We had a lovely chat before we decided to work together. She told me all about herself.”

  “I’m sure she did,” came the quietly sarcastic comment.

  “Peri!” admonished Vivienne Chaseley.

  Asha felt herself straighten her spine. She was rapidly deciding she and Peri Moyland had absolutely nothing in common.

  “So what did she tell you, Viv? You know anyone can manufacture a background.”

  “Not Asha,” Vivienne said firmly. “This suspicion is so unlike you, Peri.” She sighed loudly. “All right. If you insist. She told me her parents are divorced. Her father’s a famous cricketer. She has a young sister. And she’s spent the last couple of years working down at the Gold Coast.”

  “A famous cricketer? West. You mean her father is Sean West, the fast bowler?”
>
  “Yes, dear. I believe that’s his name. Asha’s his daughter. And as far as being a genealogist, Rosemary had heard of her. In fact, it was Rosemary who suggested I contact Asha after I saw Betty’s book.”

  “Rosemary did?”

  “She did,” Vivienne repeated.

  “I suppose if Rosemary checked her out. But I think perhaps your idea that I offer to help her is a good one, Viv. That way I can keep an unbiased eye on her.”

  Unbiased? Yeah, right! Asha thought.

  “I’m telling you, Peri. Asha is ethical. She’s intelligent. And she’s an attractive young lady.”

  “Beauty is as beauty does,” Peri stated dryly. “As you always told us when we were young.”

  “I did, didn’t I? But, love, it upsets me to see you so cynical. Put Lance and all that behind you. Your ex-fiancé was a poor excuse for a man. Pay no heed to anything he said to you.”

  “I don’t, and I wasn’t talking about Lance and the past,” Peri said even more coolly. “I was referring to Asha West.”

  “She’s a nice young woman. I must find out if she’s single. If she hasn’t got a boyfriend at the moment, maybe we should introduce her to your brother. It’s time Jackson settled down.”

  “Viv! You’re incorrigible,” Peri said with an exasperated laugh. “And Jack’s more than capable of finding his own partner.”

  “I know. I was just teasing you. And I was trying to make my point that Asha’s a nice young woman.”

  “Yes, well, we’ll see. But I still intend to keep an eye on Ms. West.”

  Asha pursed her lips as she heard Vivienne Chaseley’s spontaneous chuckle. Asha didn’t need watching. Not by Peri Moyland. Without warning, a spiral of awareness took hold of her and she stiffened.

  “I’m sure you will, Peri,” Vivienne said lightly. “You’re nothing if not tenacious. You were even as a child. Remember when Jack was trying to teach you to ride a bicycle? You’d fall off and get right back on.”

  Peri gave a soft laugh and the sound played over Asha, making her feel hot and then cold. “That probably had more to do with downright stubbornness.”