by Joan Kilby
These were facts of war. Every soldier had similar experiences. What made him so weak that he couldn’t deal with them? Well, damn it, he wasn’t weak. He could, and he would deal. No way was he going to sit on a psychologist’s couch and talk about his feelings, or listen to a shrink speculate on whether he’d been toilet trained too early.
Gazza had offered to talk. Had he had similar experiences to Riley?
Riley fished out his phone, went into his received calls and pressed dial. “Hey, Gaz,” he said when his friend answered.
“Dude! Still living the dream?” Gazza’s consonants were slurred and he spoke overloud. There was a hubbub of voices and clinking glasses in the background.
Riley stared at the school. With the blinds drawn against the setting sun, the windows looked like closed eyes. “Yeah, it’s paradise, man. How are you doing?”
“Not bad. Jus’ at the pub with a few mates. What’s up? You booked your flight for ANZAC Day yet?”
“Not yet. But I’ve been thinking about Afghanistan lately. I was wondering—” A burst of raucous male laughter made him hold the phone away from his ear.
“Sorry about that.” Gazza chuckled. “Hang on, I’ll go somewhere quiet so we can talk.”
Riley pressed two fingers between his eyebrows and waited.
“I’m back,” Gazza said a few moments later. “What were you saying?”
“About the explosion that sent me home. Where it happened, what caused it—”
“It was a school for girls. You used to go there a lot, take them pens and stuff. That’s all I know. Pete could probably tell you more. He was with you on patrol that day.”
A school. Well, that explained the panic attack. “Where’s Pete these days?”
“Don’t you know? He’s still over there. Secret ops on the border with Pakistan. I sent him an email a week ago. I’m hoping he’ll be on leave for the ANZAC Day march.”
“If you hear from him, tell him to get in touch.”
Riley hung up and drove through the leafy side streets of Summerside in the warm twilight with the windows down. A girl’s school. So Nabili, the Afghani woman—was she a teacher?
Still mulling this over he turned onto Lexie’s street. Cars lined the narrow road and muted sounds of conversation and laughter came over the fence from her backyard.
He felt like bailing on the party—God knows he wouldn’t be good company. But this past week had been awful. His nightmares had been worse and he’d spent most evenings working alone on his kitchen. He simply couldn’t take another long night in his own gloomy company. He should at least try to act normal. Things had been awkward with Paula ever since she’d confronted him. She’d said nothing more but the squad car felt smaller, as if a big fat elephant was sitting between them. The tables had turned. He’d been watching her, now she watched him.
And the hell of it was, his attraction to her hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had become more intense.
He parked a block away and tucked a six-pack of beer under his arm. The front door was open but instead, he walked through the carport to the gate. Out of long habit he assessed the lay of the land before entering. Several dozen people were scattered about, more in the house. Seated in deck chairs on the patio was a group he didn’t know. By the barbecue stood a cluster of people who were friends. In his present state of emotional disrepair he wasn’t sure which was worse.
The door to Lexie’s detached studio was open for inspection of her artwork, mostly local seascapes and portraits. Her most celebrated painting, a portrait of her sister-in-law Dr Sienna Maxwell, was hanging in the National Gallery of Victoria.
No matter which group he joined he was going to have to talk. Wow. When had socializing become a chore for him? He pushed his warm beer bottles into the tub of ice at the edge of the patio and picked out a cold one.
“Riley,” a brunette with a wide smile and a great figure called. She waved him over.
“Hey, Renita, looking good.” He still couldn’t get over how much she’d changed. When he’d left for Afghanistan she’d worn glasses and was a good thirty pounds heavier. Guys hadn’t been very kind to her in high school, probably less for her appearance than being intimidated by her brains. It was nice that she and Brett—an ex-football player and Summerside’s most famous son—had gotten together.
Renita made room for him in the circle between her and Sally. Kisses on the cheeks, greetings and exclamations, smiles all round. He’d known most of these people since high school, some since primary school. As well as Renita and Brett there was Lexie’s brother Jack and his new wife, Sienna; Darcy from the pub; John and his current squeeze, Trudy…
They were friends with whom he’d shared countless social occasions. Yet tonight he felt oddly detached, flat. Making small talk felt like having all his teeth pulled, one by one, without anesthetic. Gradually he stopped saying anything and let the conversation flow around him. Eventually he wasn’t even listening, aware only of a buzzing in his ears.
The next time he glanced up John had a hand on his shoulder and was peering into his face. “What’s the matter, mate? You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just…” Riley gestured vaguely. “I’m going to go sit down for a bit.”
“I’ll keep you company.”
“No, stay here. I…need a moment by myself.”
Riley started for the chairs then veered away and retreated to the empty trampoline at the side of the yard. He perched on the edge sipping on a beer, watching the party from a distance.
Lexie, her blonde curly hair flowing around her shoulders, carried a plate of appetizers from group to group, her laughter ringing out above the buzz of voices. Rafe, her fiancé was grilling seafood on the barbecue. Every now and then Lexie would load up another plate of appetizers and steal a kiss in the process.
“Yo, Riley,” a woman said. “I was kind of hoping you would be here tonight.”
Riley dropped back to earth. A blonde in a cherry-red maxi dress stood before him holding a champagne flute. She took a huge gulp, draining half the glass, and scrunched her nose against the bubbles.
“Paula,” he said, startled. It had taken him a moment to recognize her without her uniform.
“Got it in one.” Her shoulders, bared by the dress’s halter-top, were angular and toned.
“I haven’t seen you with your hair down, so to speak.” And he wished he hadn’t. Now she wasn’t just another cop, she was a woman with breasts and silky-looking blonde hair and a faint floral fragrance. Her mouth was a sexy red and her blue eyes enhanced by smoky shadow. It occurred to him to wonder if she used the uniform to mask the woman beneath. Even though she was showing all the skin he was the one that felt vulnerable. “How do you know Lexie?”
“I don’t. My sitter, Sally, invited me.” Paula looked around and nodded to a group near the koi pond on the far side of the yard. “The brunette in the capri pants with the little girl.”
“I know Sally. She was in my history class in grade eleven.” And now a pair of tiny fists gripped her fingers as her toddler showed off with a few unsteady steps across the grass.
“It must be nice living in a small town and knowing everyone. I had no idea you and Sally were friends or I would have mentioned you were my partner.”
Paula took another swig of champagne and glanced over her shoulder. She did a complete three hundred and sixty degree scan of the yard, looking over Riley’s shoulder before she glanced at him.
Man, he’d thought he was paranoid. Even off-duty she was tense. Riley glanced behind him, and saw only the fence and bushes on the other side. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you worried about Moresco coming after you?”
Her eyes widened. “Why would you think that?”
“Something’s got you freaked.”
Riley peeled the corner of the beer label with his thumb. “I presumed from things you said that your ex wasn’t in the picture.”
“He’s not. I didn’t invite him. And I told him in no uncertain terms not to come back.”
Riley knew he should just let it drop. The last thing he wanted was to get embroiled in her domestic issues. But one thing he couldn’t tolerate was a woman being abused. “What happened?”
Her chin rose. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
He searched her face, her bare arms. For what, bruises? She wouldn’t have worn that dress if there were marks. Still he had to ask, “Is he violent?”
Paula hesitated, then shook her head.
Maybe he had an overactive imagination but Riley thought she’d left something unspoken, like, not yet, at least. “What did he want?”
She ran a blunt-nailed finger around the rim of her glass. “To see Jamie.” Her smoky blue eyes flashed with a look he couldn’t interpret. “Let it go. I just want to forget about it. There’s nothing you can do.”
So, now she was shutting him down the way he’d shut her down over the PTSD. He didn’t like it, not one little bit. For a moment he imagined how it would be if they each dropped their guard, confided in one another, were on the same team.
He would have her in his arms in a heartbeat.
No, no, no. He’d made a conscious decision not to go there. Why couldn’t he put it completely out of his mind?
“Nice dress,” Riley said.
“No personal comments, Henning. I mean it.”
She looked over at the group around the barbecue. “Why are you sitting here all alone? You grew up in Summerside. You must be one of the gang.”
“I needed to get away for a moment. Sometimes all the talk of mortgages and footy and the latest app seems so…trivial.”
“I know what you mean.” Her blue eyes met his, full of understanding.
Again, he got a flash of how much common ground they had between them, if only they allowed themselves to admit it. Sympatico. The thought stole his breath.
“But if you’re going through a difficult time, friends can be a support. You should mingle.”
The moment of shared understanding evaporated. A formless anger welled in him, out of the blue and out of proportion. He didn’t need her patronizing comments, or her compassion. Sympathy was for weaklings.
“Are you ordering me to socialize? I understood from John that we’re equal partners at work. Anyway, we’re not on duty, so kiss my ass.” He’d intended to say it lightly, as a joke. It didn’t come out that way.
Nor did she laugh. “Have you forgotten already what happened at the school?”
He almost told her then what he’d learned from Gazza. But he didn’t. It would have sounded like an excuse. “How many ways do I need to say it? I’m fine. I’m not going through a difficult time.”
“Really,” she said flatly. “I understood from Katie that you’re usually quite the gregarious fellow. I expected you to be the life of the party. But hey, she’s only your sister. She’s probably all wrong.”
Katie didn’t know him anymore, not this…angry confused person he’d become.
“Riley.” Lexie approached with a platter of marinated grilled prawns and calamari. She gave him a one-armed hug. Traces of paint stained her slender fingers and silver earrings dangled among the tangled blonde curls. “What are you doing hiding over here?” She turned to Paula. “I’m Lexie.”
“This is Paula, my partner.” Riley took a prawn and popped the whole thing in his mouth.
“Partner?” Lexie exclaimed, her blue eyes widening as she grinned with delight. “Oh, my God. I didn’t know you were dating anyone. Where did you two meet?”
His mouth full of sizzling prawn, Riley could only shake his head vigorously.
“We’re partners at work.” Paula took a napkin and some calamari. “Running into each other here is a coincidence.”
Lexie smiled knowingly and wagged a finger. “There are no coincidences.”
Riley exchanged glances with Paula. She stopped just this side of an eye roll. On this at least they were in agreement.
“Congratulations on your engagement,” Paula said, changing the subject. “When’s the big day?”
“August, after snapper fishing season,” Lexie replied. “Rafe has a boat charter business and he can’t miss the most lucrative fish run in the year. You’ll have to come out on the bay with us sometime.” She turned back to Riley. “I haven’t seen Katie in ages. I was hoping she’d be here tonight but she had something else on.”
“She’s always extra busy during the first school term.” The truth was, his sister avoided social occasions where she knew John would be there. “I’ll have to leave soon, myself.” Riley checked his watch. How soon could he go without being rude?
“Sally’s told me so much about your paintings. Would you show them to me?” Paula asked Lexie. “Riley can pass out the rest of the appetizers. It’ll give him a chance to mingle.” She had the audacity to wink at him.
“Great idea. Thanks, Riley.” Lexie handed him the platter. She linked her arm with Paula’s and the two women strolled across the grass toward the studio.
Paula glanced over her shoulder, an ironic smile on her lips. Try to manipulate him, would she? Riley cocked a finger gun, aimed and fired. Then, while she watched, he deliberately tipped the plate and dropped it, prawns and all, into the rubbish bin.
Lexie turned just then and saw, too. Her eyes widened. Paula frowned, said something to Lexie and quickly led her away. Riley stared into the bin. What the— He felt like a jerk, wasting the food and Rafe’s efforts in cooking it. He was acting nuts. He had to get out of here.
He slid off the trampoline, ready to make his escape. But Rafe called out that dinner was ready and Riley was pulled along with the group like a bit of flotsam on the tide. He found himself at a picnic table next to Sally. She heaped his plate with food as she filled her own, as if feeding a small child. She chattered about her and Rick’s upcoming trip to Bali and didn’t seem to notice that Riley barely responded.
Football, village gossip, even statewide news, as he’d said to Paula, all seemed so trivial. It was ironic considering these were all the things he’d craved when he was discharged and what motivated his move back to Summerside. He had enjoyed them for a time. Now he was in a blue funk, feeling as if he had nothing in common with these people. They undoubtedly thought that a warm summer evening sharing food, wine, talk and laughter with good friends was what life was all about.
Until recently he’d thought so, too. He watched the others enjoying themselves and felt half angry, half wistful, wishing he could recapture the connection.
Paula seemed to be having trouble keeping her mind on the party, too. Seated at the far end of the long table she never appeared to be fully relaxed. Her gaze was alert, as if she was always looking over her shoulder. Her lovely bare shoulder with the smooth golden skin…
Who was she more worried about—Moresco or Jamie’s father? The juxtaposition of the two men’s recent appearance in her life led him back to his earlier speculation. Were they one and the same man?
The sky darkened. Over the trees rose a sickle moon. A bat flitted, a dark shape above the roofline of the house. Dessert was served. Riley checked his watch again. For three hours he’d pretended to have a good time.
Finally, the meal was over, the party was in transition. Sally was saying goodbye, Chloe asleep over her shoulder. Lexie, Jack and Sienna carried empty dishes inside. Rafe and John arranged chairs around the chiminea. Brett stoked the fire while Renita stacked the box next to it with more wood.
Riley couldn’t see Paula so he assumed she’d already left. He’d drive past her place tonight, make sure she was okay and no one was bothering her. If her light was on, he would drop in for a chat. Maybe her private life wasn’t any of his business but he wanted answers all the same.
Deciding he’d call tomorrow to thank Lexie and Rafe for the party, he slipped out the gate unnoticed. A blue Honda was pulling away from the curb. He recognized the woman behind the wheel. Paula was making her own getaway.
* * *
PAULA SQUINTED AGAINST the headlights in her rearview mirror. A car had been following her ever since she left the party. She tried to identify the make and model of the vehicle but it was hopeless with the glare of the headlights.
All evening she’d been on edge, worried that Nick would follow her and lie in wait until she left the party to see if she picked up Jamie. She’d only come out of bravado because if she stayed home, then Nick would have beaten her. She felt for the gun tucked in the side pocket of her car door, hidden beneath the rag she used to clean the windshield.
Her cell phone rang. It was both illegal and dangerous to drive while speaking on a cell but she reached into her purse for it anyway. There was no name next to the number.
“Hello?”
“It’s me following you,” Riley said. “Thought I’d better let you know so you don’t call the cops or something.”
Paula quietly let out her breath, hoping he didn’t hear her sigh of relief. “I was planning to shoot out my open window and take out your tires.”
“You’ve been watching too many cop shows.”
In the darkened car, his low amused voice in her ear sounded too much like banter. Banter with Riley was dangerous and no gun could make it any safer. “What do you want?”
“To make sure you get home safely.”
“I appreciate your concern.” She slowed, put on her indicator and turned into her street. “I’m a big girl now.”
