Home Truths

by Louise Forster

  The gate swung shut with a creak and a clang. Jennifer’s pulse quickened.

  ‘Where were we?’ Calum’s voice rumbled, the dark sexy look back in his eyes.

  Jennifer had had time to cool down and think. ‘Um…’ Oh God, it would be so easy to float back into that heavenly daze. His fingers in her hair, his hands on her body felt so good.

  ‘Thanks, for helping me out,’ she said, and caught his soft smile. Quickly, she busied herself with brushing the dust off her hands and clothes. Every time she saw him she was a complete mess, but what did that matter? she asked herself. It wasn’t as if she was out to impress.

  ‘My pleasure,’ he said with a winning smile. ‘Any time you want someone to check your hair for spiders, I’m your man.’

  Oh, that was lame, but charming. ‘Listen,’ Jennifer said veering off the subject of spiders. ‘I’m not happy about having slept with a drunk in the cellar all night. I’ll have to install safety chains. Or do you know of a better option?’ Yeah, like move in and guard my door, like you did last night.

  ‘Safety chains would be a good start. Under normal circumstances I’d suggest alarms, but the wiring in this place couldn’t handle it.’

  ‘I don’t suppose they come battery powered?’

  ‘No. Only smoke alarms do,’ he said softly, moving in close. He watch his fingers twirl around a curl. He pulled it straight then let it go; it bounced up, landing on her forehead. ‘Great hair.’

  ‘More spider webs?’ she asked, her belly feeling like it was in free fall.

  ‘No…I could search?’

  ‘That’s okay, but thanks for offering.’ The urge to start over was tempting. She backed away and, fearing they might stray, she tucked her hands into her armpits.

  Calum nodded in understanding and changed the subject. ‘I’d keep the wine to myself if I were you. Once the locals get a sniff, you’ll be a popular woman. Not that you aren’t already,’ he grinned. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll install a few smoke alarms and safety chains for the front and back.’

  ‘That’s very kind, but I can do that, can’t I?’

  Calum shook his head. ‘Don’t — and I mean don’t — touch anything. I won’t be long.’

  Jennifer hurried to the pink bathroom, peered into the mirror and fiddled with her hair to no effect. Her hair did whatever it wanted and nothing less than electrical devices could get it to do otherwise. ‘What’s the point anyway? A couple of days and I’ll be gone.’ She shrugged at her image and dusted herself off.

  Waiting upstairs in the hall, she passed time by checking out the sideboard. Still wondering why her grandfather was neatly out of his own wedding picture, nothing came to mind that would clear up that mystery. She opened one of the top drawers. Among postcards and letters, she found half a dozen hair clips and lifted them out. As she ran her fingers over the fancy diamantes, she thought they were delicate and pretty. Veronica had left little traces of herself throughout the house. She had little time left, but she would try to find her. Her uncle’s solicitor would know. Calum’s footsteps pounded through the shop and up the stairs, as he came closer.

  She turned to see him striding down the hall, effortlessly carrying a ladder on his shoulder. Equipment jangled from a broad, leather tool belt slung low on his hips that swung back and forth with every step. The movement was mesmerising. She pulled her gaze away, dropping it to his washed-out jeans that fitted snug around his thighs. Then back up to his white T-shirt, stretched taut across broad, hard chest and biceps. Jennifer was spellbound. Without thinking, she dropped the hair clips on the sideboard.

  ‘Jen?’ Calum held up a couple of plastic carry bags.

  ‘Huh?’ she said dreamily.

  ‘Smoke alarms.’

  ‘Oh.’ She came to her senses and met his gaze. ‘Great.’

  ‘I’ll start in the kitchen.’ She followed him in. He propped his ladder against the wall near the door and climbed up. Jennifer put the bags on a bench and lost herself in his supple, big-cat-like movements, straining forearms and biceps, and jeans that hugged his butt and thighs. She inclined her head, gazing, content to watch him work.

  ‘S’cuse me, Jen?’

  ‘Hmmm?’

  ‘Could you pass me the cordless drill?’

  ‘Drill? You want to drill something?’

  ‘I want to drill these screws into the wall, otherwise the alarm will fall down. Have you been wine tasting in the cellar?’ he grinned.

  ‘Course not. Sorry.’ She mentally slapped herself, which had little effect. She stretched up, passed him the drill and said, ‘Thanks for the coffee and sweet buns. Breakfast was delicious.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ He grinned down at her.

  Jennifer’s enjoyment went on for over an hour as Calum put up smoke alarms. Then he rechecked the archaic fuse box inside a cupboard in the laundry.

  ‘Okay, I’ve turned off the mains power, should’ve done it yesterday. Sorry, Jen, but I’d like a good night’s sleep. Even though I’ve turned the power off, don’t touch power points, don’t touch switches. I can leave the hot water service on as that comes in on a separate line and looks safe enough. The doors have chains, and I’m sure Brock and Tony are hard at work looking for the intruder.’ He picked up the ladder and his tools. ‘Where did you put the bag I gave you?’

  ‘On the kitchen bench.’

  ‘There’s a stack of batteries in it. You’ll need to replace them for the old ones in all the torches so you’re never without a light.’

  Jennifer gazed at him.

  Calum inclined his head and looked back. There was a long pause where neither said anything. Jennifer could hear her heart thumping in her ears.

  ‘Jen?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll do that. How much do I owe you?’

  ‘Uh-uh. Call it community service, should’ve done it ages ago, just didn’t know it was this bad.’

  ‘No, I insist on paying you.’

  ‘It’s a meagre sum. Don’t embarrass me. It might save your life and the lives of people up and down the street, okay?’

  ‘Okay, have it your way.’ On impulse, she reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she breathed, lingering for just a moment to take in his warm male scent tinged with a hint of pine. She stepped back, and immediately felt a sense of loneliness. How did he get that smell? She could nuzzle his neck all day. His eyes slowly drifted to her mouth and in a blink, the atmosphere changed to something a lot more sensuous.

  Calum’s gaze locked onto hers. And then a smile eased into his features. It wasn’t just any old smile, in the depths of his eyes she saw something, a knowing, like he could he read her innermost thoughts. Jennifer took a deep breath and tried to deal with the butterflies fluttering through her stomach. She felt as if she’d just gone down the big dipper at Luna Park. Oh help, what have I done? We nearly had sex! Would’ve had it not been for Brock and Tony.

  ‘My pleasure.’ Calum’s grin widened, curled a big hand around her neck and pulled her in. He angled his head and planted his soft mouth on hers for a short, but very hot, deep kiss. ‘Be seeing you, Twinkles.’ He walked out the door just as Sofie and Claudia walked in. He gave them a nod as he passed. ‘Morning, ladies.’

  ‘Morning,’ they chorused, surprised and curious.

  Sofie strode up to Jennifer and whispered, ‘Rearrange your AO face before Claudia sees you. She’s not eighteen yet.’

  In a dream, Jennifer gazed at Calum’s athletic back, arms, butt. ‘Right,’ she said on a sigh, and turned on her heel. ‘Right!’ she said forcefully this time.

  ‘You look like you could do with a cup of coffee.’ Sofie raised her basket. ‘I brought a thermos.’

  ‘You’ve got real coffee in there?’

  ‘No, instant, this will have to do. At least it’s hot.’

  Jennifer kissed her sister’s cheek. ‘Come through to the kitchen, I’ve got a few things to tell you.’

  ‘It’s Bret, isn’t it?’ Sofie sounded on edge. ‘I knew I shouldn�
�t have left with Brock and the crew to go to the pub.’

  Jennifer gathered cups and plates then poured them all a coffee before sitting down at the old, scrubbed pine kitchen table. Sofie and Claudia pulled out chairs. They sat and propped elbows on the table. Claudia brought her hand up to rest her chin in her palm. Sofie laced her fingers, tightly, turning their knuckles white in anticipation that what they were about to hear was not good.

  ‘The call yesterday wasn’t from Bret, exactly,’ Jennifer began. She told them the whole story, often having to calm Sofie down, explaining to her it was all right, that Bret escaped and was on his way to Darwin. Claudia had no patience for her uncle; Jennifer knew she’d seen her mother all too often worry about him and bail him out of trouble. She’d had enough and told them Shit-for-brains needed teaching a lesson.

  ‘Obviously, they think we’re worth a few quid. Maybe Bret told them we’re inheriting everything from Uncle Bob. Boy, are they in for a shock.’ Jennifer shrugged arms out. ‘I don’t know!’

  ‘What if they find us to get the money?’ Eyes wide, Sofie covered her mouth.

  ‘Sofe, you can’t go on about scenarios, and what-ifs, okay?’ Though Calum had said as much, they needn’t know that. ‘You can’t anticipate.’ Jennifer clasped her sister’s shoulder. Sofie’s hand fell away from her mouth. Jennifer continued, ‘We’ll get the money. Thing is you start something like this and where does it end?’

  ‘You call the police. That’s where it ends.’ Claudia thumped the table.

  Jennifer sighed. ‘Yeah, you’re right Claudia. I’m so bloody pissed off that’s exactly what I might do.’

  ‘Might!’ Claudia screeched.

  ‘Oh bugger!’ Sofie cried out. ‘Do Mum and Dad know?’

  ‘Are you kidding? I’m not involving them! Bret called us. If he wants them to know what’s going on, he can tell them. They’d interrogate me, and I have no answers,’ Jennifer flung her hands out, ‘but they’d keep pushing, going way beyond Bret, and start on me, then you and Claudia.’ She shook her head. ‘Not happening — no way!’

  ‘Okay — okay.’ Sofie held Jennifer’s hand.

  She wasn’t happy about her outburst, but talking about her parents always fired her up.

  It was Sofie’s turn to soothe and change the subject. ‘What was Calum doing here?’

  Jennifer looked up from her hands and said, ‘He installed smoke alarms, but there’s more.’

  Sofie and Claudia edged closer.

  ‘Calum was here when the thugs called…he stayed all night. Don’t look at me like that. Nothing happened. It nearly did, but then the police came.’

  ‘What…again?!’ Sofie cried out, eyes round, hands clutching her face.

  Jennifer was thankful that Sofie latched on to the word ‘police’ rather than what she nearly did with Calum. She finished off with telling them about the comatose local and their uncle’s cellar full of wine.

  ‘Jeez,’ Claudia complained, ‘I missed all the fun — again!’

  *

  People went about their business on the street while Nikolay tried to remain inconspicuous. Difficult when he was panting like a large, unfit jogger trying to pass himself off as an athlete. Plus, he was recovering from how close he’d come to being caught. Squeals akin to those of baby piglets had woken him. He’d felt the adrenalin rush so strong that it had made him belch. He’d tried orientating himself while a massive bass drum pounded in his head. Holding his head, he’d lurched up the cellar stairs and stumbled out the back door. He’d winced when the back gate creaked open but, relieved the coast was clear, he’d moved into the shadows. The sickening hangover combined with the midday heat had his head pounding so hard his eyes felt ready to pop.

  Sweat trickled down Nikolay’s face as he sweltered by his you-beaut ute. He’d left the car standing in the shade yesterday; now it was in full baking sun. He could barely touch the door handle. He squeezed his belly behind the steering wheel, turned the ignition on and took off, winding his window down and keeping it that way the whole fifty kilometres to his motel. It didn’t cool him at all. The hot northerly breeze made it difficult for him to breathe. Sweat dripped off his chin and elbow, and his shirt stuck to his armpits. He could almost smell the red wine coming out of every pore.

  Marinated, steam-baked Russian.

  He wondered how the locals survived this awful, energy-sucking heat.

  He drove into the small town of Parrot Rock, parked the ute outside his motel room and stumbled inside. Shutting the door, he slumped backwards onto the bed, panting. He was going to die — definitely — no one could survive this much pain. His hand reached for the remote to turn on the air-conditioner. It kicked in slowly and burbled along with a rattle and hum.

  ‘Shtupid doorak, drinking wine. Vodka not do this,’ he groaned.

  With his breath almost back to normal, Nikolay eased up off the bed to get a flannel from the en suite bathroom, and soaked it under the cold tap. He took himself back to bed, placing the cold flannel on his face.

  Maybe she hadn’t seen him properly. Nyet! Cover blown. Fool, he thought. It was time for Plan B — whatever that was. He dug out his mobile and dialled.

  ‘Zdraastvooeeche. Hello,’ a familiar voice answered.

  ‘Cover blown, Boris. I come home,’ Nikolay stated, leaving no room for doubt.

  ‘Where are you?’ Boris demanded.

  ‘Motel, you shtupid doorak!’ Nikolay growled quietly into the phone. He tried to remain calm, but the wine and the heat were wearing him down. He rubbed his bulging neck muscles. And now Boris, sitting in his fancy office, was going to try and make him stay and tell him how to do his job.

  ‘Who you call doorak? You let them see you! Your problem. You go back, get stuff!’

  ‘Nyet! I coming home, no way can find stuff. Forget all about. Stupid to get involve with idiots. Poochawk paakhnooshchee svinya daalshi. Bunch of smelly pig farts.’

  ‘Who you calling pig farts? I am your comrade, your friend. This trouble comes out we both go to Seebeer! Siberia!’ Boris yelled.

  Nikolay could almost see him sweating. ‘Good. Nice and cool in Seebeer — like your office,’ he grumbled. ‘I was in shop. Man said, “Hot, is not it? You can fry eggs on bonnet of car!” ’

  ‘They will humiliate me — then you…quietly! We will no longer work for embassy, sweep streets in Seebeer! Think about what happens to you and Anna! They will cut you dead.’

  ‘What for all this drama! Heh?’ Nikolay waited.

  A long sigh came down the line. ‘I cannot say over phone. Stay, for me, and watch for little while. Something might happen.’

  Nikolay disconnected and threw the phone down, then picked it up again to ring his wife. Hearing her lovely voice, he sighed, barely able to stand the heartache.

  ‘Dooshyenka. Darling Anna,’ he said, sending kisses down the line. ‘I am to stay a little longer. Da. I be missing you too, dooshyenka.’ They talked for a while. ‘I come home soon. Will ring tomorrow. Prashaitye. Goodbye.’ He sent Anna another kiss. ‘Prashaitye, dooshyenka,’ and regretfully closed off.

  He might be grasping at autumn leaves in a high wind, but he had to try. While waiting for the line to connect him to his man in London, he rummaged in his bag for some headache pills. He dropped four into his mouth, twice the prescribed amount, grabbed the vodka bottle sitting on the bedside table, took a few swigs and washed them down. Holding the phone to his ear with his left shoulder, he filled his hip flask with the remains.

  ‘Da?’ a grating voice enquired.

  ‘Vladimir! You pay attention — you have to get in girlfriend’s flat,’ Nikolay demanded. ‘Bob could give photos or something to his niece.’

  ‘Of course there are photos, I’ve seen them with Bob in London, Paris and Italy.’

  ‘No, they are different photos — Bob with Boris.’

  ‘How you mean, different?’

  ‘I do not know! Boris will not say.’

  ‘Stupid man,’ Vladimir gro
uched. ‘Anyway, is no good, do not have key. And caretaker would not let me in.’

  ‘You use prune for brain and do it!’ Nikolay hung up. Vladimir’s chances of finding anything useful in the flat were remote, but still worth a try.

  Chapter 10

  Jennifer thought her uncle’s solicitor Robert Spaulding looked more like a balding vicar than a lawyer. His sharp, brown eyes darted between the three of them, looking into their souls for sins that needed exorcising.

  Here we go. Jennifer watched him steeple his fingers. She readied herself for a sermon. On the other hand, she thought a sermon might be worthwhile if it meant they’d find out who Veronica was. She would surely be a beneficiary in his estate.

  ‘Your uncle, Bob Feldman, has left all his properties to the both of you.’

  A hush fell over the room.

  Robert Spaulding looked at Jennifer and Sofie in turn. ‘This includes his pharmacies in Point Piper and Kings Cross, his vineyards — you can see some of them from his kitchen — and, of course, his property here in town. Which brings me to Bob’s pharmacy and home, where you are staying at the moment. Under your uncle’s instruction, I held the building in trust for you both until his death.’

  Jennifer’s chin dropped. The room with its book shelves, dark furniture and university degrees disappeared. Her eyes focused in on the little man opposite them, while her ears picked up Sofie’s heavy breathing.

  Claudia laughed, eyes round. ‘Get outa here.’

  Sofie didn’t respond to a gentle nudge in the ribs, so Jennifer shifted her gaze back to Mr Spaulding. ‘What did you say?’ she whispered, trying to grasp the meaning of what he’d said.

  He tapped a pen on the documents in front of him. ‘It’s all here in the papers. You are now wealthy young women.’

  Jennifer heard a strangled squeak come out of her mouth. She cleared her throat. ‘We never dreamt — I mean, at least I thought some of it would go to someone else, like Veronica. Why us?’

  ‘My guess is, you’re his family.’ Was that a wicked, little smile? Mr Spaulding had a sense of humour. The next moment he was serious again. ‘We know nothing of this woman Veronica.’