She swallowed hard. ‘Can you feel anything, or see anything?’ she asked, feeling like a total knob. If her mother could see her now she would knock her into the next room.
Gabby shook her head slightly but otherwise remained unmoving.
‘Okay.’ Krystal tried to muster more commitment to the task. She found herself taking a deep breath too, trying to reach a place inside herself of inner quiet, or stillness, or folk magic or woo-woo, anything that might help.
‘Evan,’ she said, fumbling for the right tone in which to address the dead. ‘I … hope you can hear me.’ She stared at her hands, now folded on the tabletop, and tried to concentrate on Evan, not on Gabby. ‘I …’ She was about to say I miss you, but her throat squeezed shut on the words, damming a torrent of emotion that would have gone with them. ‘I’m confused,’ she said, instead leaning more into her anger. Unlike sorrow, anger would hold her together. ‘Why were you in Sydney? What were you doing there?’
She waited, continuing to stare at her hands. But when no response came from Gabby, Krystal peeked up at her face. Lines creased Gabby’s forehead. Her entwined fingers squirmed in her lap. Did that mean she was seeing something she didn’t want to see? Was it something awful, just as Krystal had feared?
She tried again, blurting out the thing she wanted to know most of all. ‘Do you forgive me?’
Across from her, Gabby tilted her head as though querying this.
Krystal flicked her gaze around the room, again checking for a visitation of sorts, but there was still nothing. Impatient, she spoke to Gabby. ‘What can you see?’
Gabby opened her eyes and took a deep breath, then shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
‘I’m sorry.’
Krystal felt like a total idiot. ‘It’s not your fault. The luck just wasn’t with us today,’ she said, trying to sound flippant.
‘I’d better go,’ Gabby said, standing up suddenly, looking more upset than Krystal would have expected. After all, Krystal had the most at stake here. She slung her big bag over her shoulder. ‘But we can try again another time.’
‘Sure, okay,’ Krystal said, wondering why Gabby’s mood had changed so swiftly.
‘I’ll message you.’ Gabby was moving backwards towards the door, a smile plastered on her face. Then she waved goodbye as though they were new friends who had met at a fancy yoga class and taken their relationship to the next level, and would now be meeting up for steamed greens and yerba mate tea.
Krystal closed the door behind Gabby and rested her forehead against its cool, firm surface, her eyes closed, wondering what the hell had just happened. Maybe, she told herself with a flash almost of relief, Gabby didn’t have Evan’s heart after all. The alternative – that her own husband didn’t want to talk to her – was too excruciating to contemplate. No, it was far more palatable to believe that she and Gabby simply had this all wrong.
Back in the kitchen, she stood on tiptoe to reach the bottle of vodka in the top cupboard and rested it on the bench while she pulled the shot glass she’d used earlier from the dishwasher where she’d hidden it out of Gabby’s sight. She unscrewed the cap and was just about to pour when there was a knock at the door. She froze, wondering if she could ignore it. But then a voice called out.
‘Krystal, it’s Gabby.’
‘Coming!’ She put the cap back on the bottle and returned it to the cupboard and swept the shot glass back into the dishwasher, then opened the door.
Gabby’s arms were crossed and she swayed from side to side uneasily.
‘What’s happened?’
‘Can I come in?’
Krystal stood aside and waved her in, then closed the door.
Gabby paced in a circle, rubbing one hand over the other. Then she stopped and faced Krystal. ‘I did see something.’
Krystal’s stomach plunged in dread. ‘What was it?’
‘A woman.’
Krystal closed her eyes. She’d been expecting it, of course. It had always been the most logical explanation.
‘I didn’t want to tell you. I freaked out, sorry. But it’s your right to know. You asked me to help and I can’t lie to you. I owe you so much … the truth is the least I can give you.’
Krystal moved to the table and sat down. ‘What did you see, exactly?’
Gabby dropped her bag and sat down too. ‘It was just a flash, you know. Not much. The two of them sitting in a house. It was more the feeling that went with it.’
‘And what was that?’
Gabby swallowed. ‘Guilt and shame and … fear.’
‘Fear of being discovered?’
‘I think so.’
So it was true. The simplest answers were usually the right ones. ‘I need more information,’ Krystal said to Gabby, her voice shaking. ‘Promise me you’ll keep trying.’
Gabby nodded. ‘I promise.’
19
That night, Pippa brought the kids over for dinner.
‘I’m avoiding Harvey,’ she said, tossing her jacket and bag onto the kitchen bench.
Monty put his arm around her shoulder, looking worn and sad. Her parents had never loved Harvey, but both Monty and Lottie had appreciated his upstanding character and essential goodness. ‘I’ll get the pizza bases out of the freezer,’ he said.
‘Thanks, Dad.’
Gabby made them tea while their combined seven children dispersed throughout the house and yard, then she took Pippa to sit in the corner of the lounge room in the floral-upholstered chairs with a small low table between them. The ‘tea nook’ was perfect for holding private conversations. It made Gabby feel like a lady from the Victorian era who had to sit and do needlepoint while exchanging the latest tittle-tattle of the day, and she always found she rather enjoyed it.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing her skirt.
‘Hell, no,’ Pippa said. ‘I’m sick to death of it all. Tell me something interesting instead.’
Gabby blew out a heavy breath. ‘Well, I definitely have a few things to share that will take your mind off your home life.’
‘Oh, good!’ Pippa’s face lit up. ‘What is it?’
Gabby told her about the visions, her online research into cellular memory, her meetings with Krystal, and the other woman. Her sister sat with her mouth ajar for most of the conversation, completely shocked.
‘Drink your tea before it gets cold,’ Gabby said, motioning to her untouched teacup.
Pippa took several gulps of her extra-milky Lady Grey. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?’
‘You know why. You’ve had enough of your own drama to deal with. And I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, to begin with.’
‘Shit. This is huge.’
‘Yeah, it is.’
Pippa took a moment to process, then said, ‘What does she mean she doesn’t know what he was doing in Sydney? How can you not know where your husband is?’
‘It’s amazing what someone can keep from their partner, isn’t it?’ Gabby said, feigning surprise.
‘A secret horse isn’t the same as a secret trip interstate.’
‘I’m not sure about the logic of that,’ Gabby said. ‘But Krystal said Evan left for work, and some hours later the police called to tell her he’d been in an accident and she needed to get to Sydney’s Royal North Shore Hospital as soon as possible.’
‘Oh, that’s awful.’ She replaced her blue and white teacup on its matching saucer and lifted the pot to top it up. ‘More?’
‘Thanks.’ Gabby held out her own cup for a splash more and gazed out the glass doors into the backyard.
‘What are you going to do?’ Pippa asked.
‘I don’t know. I can’t exactly make the visions happen.’
Pippa opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, looking torn.
‘What? What were you going to say?’
‘I don’t like the idea of this,’ Pippa lowered her voice, ‘but h
ave you tried actually asking him what he wants?’
‘I have. But sometimes it feels like he’s haunting me.’
Pippa sat bolt upright. ‘Haunting you?’
‘Shh!’ Gabby widened her eyes in alarm, aware that Monty and a fluctuating number of children weren’t far away, over in the kitchen preparing pizza toppings.
‘Maybe this is what he wants; he wants me to help his wife,’ Gabby said.
‘But you can’t help her at the expense of your own sanity or safety.’ They both paused a moment, considering her words. ‘You don’t think he would actually try to hurt you, do you?’ Pippa asked. ‘Can’t some ghosts do that?’
‘Poltergeists, I think.’ Gabby’s knowledge of the supernatural realm was limited to a few scary movies she’d watched when she was younger.
‘I’m sure I’ve heard that some can throw things, or lock you in cupboards, kill you or assault you in your sleep or abduct you.’
Gabby flinched, unnerved. ‘I think the latter is aliens, not poltergeists, and I don’t think he – Evan – is like that.’
‘How do you know? You don’t know anything about him! He’s already scared you. And now he’s all but admitted he was having an affair.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Just tell her you’re sorry but you can’t help any more. You haven’t got anything further from him. Tell her you’re happy you met her and you wish her well but you don’t owe her anything.’
‘Don’t I? I have her husband’s heart, a heart she gave to me. She wanted someone to have that heart, to live a life that her husband no longer had. That is beyond generous.’ Gabby felt her eyes well. ‘I wouldn’t even be here today if she hadn’t had the grace to think of someone other than herself at the worst moment of her life. Can you imagine?’
Pippa sighed. ‘No, I can’t imagine. But you don’t know that’s true. If it wasn’t her it would have been someone else.’
‘Not necessarily. It was a game of roulette I was lucky enough to win. And it wasn’t someone else who donated the heart, it was her. I owe her. More than that, I owe Evan.’
Pippa closed her eyes a moment, as if she simply couldn’t believe the foolishness of her older sister, then picked up her cup again to sip thoughtfully while they listened to Sadie and Celia pull a pile of paper and pens from the craft corner of the kitchen and spill them across the dining table. ‘So, what are you going to do now?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t like the way we left things. She still doesn’t know why he was out in that street that night.’
‘You could just lie, you know. Make up a reason – a good, lovely reason. Tell her you got the affair thing wrong. Tell her he was planning a surprise holiday or something. Let’s face it, if he lied and told her he was going to work but was secretly going to Sydney then it was for something he really didn’t want her to know about. Having a mistress is probably the best outcome, really. He could have had a gambling problem, or a drug problem, a secret family, or worse. So, tell her this reason – the lovely one – came from Evan, give her some peace of mind and let her go on her way.’
Gabby scoffed. ‘And anger Evan, and provoke him into even more hauntings?’
‘I don’t think you’ve got much to lose,’ Pippa said reasonably.
‘I can’t do it, Pip. I will never be able to repay her for wanting someone to have Evan’s heart and giving me more time with my children.’
Pippa leaned back, defeated. ‘I suppose.’
‘I’m going to try to get more information for her. Best case scenario, Evan shows up, Krystal gets her answer and he leaves me alone.’
‘And worst case scenario?’ Pippa prompted.
To that, Gabby had no answer at all.
‘Can you smell smoke?’ Gabby asked, taking coffee cups from Ed and securing lids to them for the woman in sky-high heels and a belly-low bright red dress who was busily double-thumb tapping on her phone screen.
Ed lifted her unmade-up face and sniffed the air. ‘I don’t think so.’ She continued to heat milk, unperturbed.
‘Skinny flat white and double-shot long black?’ Gabby looked at the customer expectantly. The woman nodded, continued to tap the screen with one hand and reached for the coffees with the other. Gabby stared at her a moment, waiting, but when the woman didn’t bother to stop what she was doing, she put the coffees down and reached for a takeaway tray to secure them. ‘There you go,’ Gabby said, handing over the tray.
‘Thanks,’ the woman said, reaching blindly for the tray. She took it and promptly dropped it, hot coffee exploding over her bare legs and several customers nearby.
‘Ow, shit!’ the woman screeched, dancing from side to side as coffee ran down her legs and into her shoes.
Gabby rushed around the counter with a wet cloth and handed it to the woman first, then found more for the unhappy bystanders who now had coffee rivulets down their jeans and suit pants. Kyle hurried over to help from the other side of the cafe where he’d been delivering food and drinks to a group of backpackers, each of whose packs took up a seat of its own.
Gabby straightened. ‘Thanks,’ she said to Kyle. Then she caught the smell again. She hadn’t imagined it.
She ran towards the roasting room behind the glass wall, her boots landing loudly on the wooden floor of the front of house, then dully on the resin floor of back of house.
‘Fire!’
She knew where the fire would be because it wasn’t the first time it had happened and it wouldn’t be the last. When the beans were roasting they shed their husks, which were as fine and light as bees’ wings. Cooking at around two hundred degrees, and being sucked out of the drum and piled together with hot air swirling through them, they could easily combust.
Luciano had his back to her, watching the computer screen. Coffee beans popped in the drum, right on first crack, the most delicate moment in the roast. Luciano’s full attention would be on the moving lines on the graph on that screen. At the same time, the de-stoner was in action, pellets of roasted beans clattering through the metal pipes.
‘Fire!’ she called, louder this time.
Luciano spun to look over his shoulder, one hand still on the dials. ‘What?’
Gabby was at the husk bin now, bending down to turn the tap on the wall. It was stuck hard; Luciano must have turned it off and she couldn’t shift it. She felt something pop inside her hand, and pain splintered through her fingers and arm.
Luciano must have smelled the smoke now too. He abandoned his precious roast and rushed to where she was, brushing into her on his way past. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped on the tap. They heard the sprinkler spit to life from inside the pipe above the husk bin, and water doused the flames.
Gabby clutched her injured hand to her chest. Luciano turned off the tap again and charged around the floor-to-ceiling metal roaster, back to his computer. He cut the gas and pulled the lever to drop the beans onto the cooling tray, but they were already blackened. He growled in frustration. The fan below roared into life but it was too late. Tendrils of smoke rose from the charred beans. He came back to her side, scowling, crouched down to his haunches and opened the side door of the husk bin. He reached in and pulled out a metal bin now heavy with water and soggy, burned husks.
‘What a mess,’ he muttered. He straightened, hands on hips. ‘Are you okay?’
Gabby poked her hand gently. ‘I think I might have sprained something.’
‘You need ice,’ he said, and went to the double-door stainless-steel refrigerator and pulled out a first-aid ice pack, wrapped it in a tea towel and brought it to her. He placed it tenderly on her hand.
‘Thanks,’ she said, pressing the pack into the palm of her right hand and closing her fingers around it. ‘The tap was turned off so tightly and I was rushing to try to get the fire out.’
‘I couldn’t smell it.’ He looked at her, a glint of admiration in his dark eyes. ‘But you smelled it from front of house?’
She shrugged. ‘I have a good nose.’
‘I’ve noticed,’ he said, and looked at her nose a moment with such admiration she almost thought he was going to kiss it.
‘What happened, Luciano?’ a small voice asked.
Gabby peered around the silver roaster to see a young boy appear from the storeroom, carrying a toy dog in his hand, his lapis-blue eyes excited beneath his blond fringe.
Luciano smiled warmly at the boy. ‘Uncle Luciano has been making a big mess out here.’ He bent down to the boy’s level and pointed to the blackened beans in the cooling tray. ‘See those beans? They’re all ruined.’
The boy screwed up his nose at the scorched smell in the air. ‘It stinks out here.’
‘Yeah.’ Luciano turned to Gabby, sheepish. ‘This is my nephew, Cooper.’
‘Hi, Cooper. I’m Gabby.’ She gave him a big smile then raised her eyebrows at Luciano, questioning.
‘Cooper wasn’t feeling too good this morning and he didn’t want to stay with Mamma, so …’ He shrugged, helplessly.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I get it.’
‘You were supposed to be helping me roast, mate,’ Luciano teased him. ‘What happened? Look at my beans!’ He gestured to the ruined batch spinning in the cooler.
Cooper grinned, clearly unperturbed.
‘I’m going to have to clean up this big mess now,’ Luciano went on. ‘Want to help me?’
‘No way!’ Cooper erupted into giggles. ‘It’s your mess so you have to clean it up,’ he said, clearly mimicking a line he’d heard many times before. Sadly, it was probably his mum or his dad who’d said it, Gabby assumed.
‘Good point,’ Luciano said, his hands on his hips.
‘Do you like dogs?’ Cooper asked Gabby, holding up his palm-sized brown and white dog on a keyring.
‘I do. I have a dog at home. Her name is Sally.’
The Gift of Life Page 18
