by Cathryn Hein
‘No. That’s a Friday special. Vanessa’s Sunday special is kir royale.’ Clocking her clueless expression, he explained. ‘Champagne with a dash of cassis. It’s good.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. ‘Come on.’
Teagan regarded the knot and gave up. She’d return with scissors tomorrow and cut it out. Not that it’d be noticeable. Claudia had more than enough tail hair to cover the gap.
Lucas didn’t push when she refused a lift back in his ute. Teagan wanted time to recover from her discomposure and the pathetic disappointment that his appearance was thanks to Vanessa’s invitation. Something that must happen often given how familiar he was with her aunt’s cocktail-hour schedule. A teensy part of Teagan had hoped Lucas was there to see her, but she should have known that was ridiculous. Yet he had a way of looking at her with a tease in his eye and a grin that made her stomach flip-flop, and kept fuelling the dumb thought that they might represent a modicum of interest.
A champagne bucket and bottle of dangerously purple liqueur was already laid out on the table when Teagan arrived at the verandah. Lucas was resting comfortably against the rail, while Ness lounged in her cane chair with one slim leg crossed over the other. She’d changed into jeans and a pair of very high-heeled cork-soled mules. Her fitted shirt was unbuttoned just enough for a teasing hint of cleavage. From his vantage point, Lucas had to be scoring more than a hint.
The knowledge tightened Teagan’s insecurity further.
‘Darling, how did you get on?’
‘Okay.’ She tugged her notebook from her back pocket. ‘I made a list.’
‘Teagan’s going to repair my fences,’ Ness said to Lucas. ‘She might need a hand.’
‘I’ve been fixing fences since I was a kid. I’ll be fine.’
Lucas held her eye. ‘I don’t mind helping.’
‘Never pass up the help of a strong man, Teagan.’
A statement that caused Teagan to peek at Lucas’s arms, the way his biceps stretched the sleeves of his polo shirt, the power of his forearms. Even his hands seemed fit. How could any woman work with that around?
‘Like I said, I’ll be fine. Excuse me a moment,’ she said, pulling open the screen door. ‘I smell like Claudia and need to wash up.’
In the bathroom she rested her forehead against the cool tiles. How utterly mortifying to be treated like a gauche teenager who needed her aunt to play matchmaker. Fantasies were one thing but Teagan didn’t want a relationship. With Lucas or anyone else. Not with her head the way it was.
When she returned the drinks were poured, and a bowl of olives was on the table. Ness handed her and then Lucas a champagne flute and picked up her own, raising it in a toast. She smiled at Teagan. ‘To new beginnings.’
Lucas winked. ‘Definitely.’
Teagan took a long gulp of champagne and turned away, feigning interest in Merlin’s headbutting activity. The ram was back in his yard and up to his old tricks. His dedication to the task was impressive.
‘Col been around?’ asked Lucas.
Ness sighed. ‘This morning. He could barely contain himself.’
‘Same as in the club last night. Bunny strung him along a beauty. Said she was going to ring Dom about providing rehabilitation services for drug-addled Shih tzus and pets with attachment issues.’
‘Ah, Bunny, I so love that woman.’ Ness took a thoughtful sip of champagne. ‘Although it’s not a bad idea. Dom probably has clients nutty enough to go for it.’
‘She could run feline yoga classes.’
‘Or reiki for Rottweilers.’
‘Polarity therapy for pugs.’
‘Aromatherapy for Afghans.’
The pair of them cracked up. Teagan dipped her head, feeling left out and devoid of charm. Blanche tiptoed her way along the rail towards her. She was the ugliest cat imaginable, but Teagan felt a strange urge to cuddle her to her chest. Before the cat could reach her, she turned back to the others. She wasn’t that needy yet.
‘Did you know she played for the Australian women’s cricket team?’ Lucas’s voice was full of admiration.
‘Of course. She won a World Cup.’
‘You never said.’
‘I figured you knew. Certainly I thought Mark would have.’
‘Nope. None of us had a clue until last night. Dunks is beside himself.’
‘I can imagine.’ Ness smiled at the thought. ‘Those two are made for one another, if only they could see it.’
‘Give them time, they’ll work it out.’ Lucas took a sip of his drink. Teagan watched the movement, thinking how incongruous his big hand appeared around the flute’s delicate stem. There were scars and nicks on his skin, as she’d expect for a farrier, but other marks, too. Small pale scars that extended up his forearms and looked more like burns. ‘So what did you tell Col?’
‘I told him this needed wise heads and to talk to Kathleen. That ought to help keep a lid on things for a while. With a bit of luck they’ll simply sit around complaining until it’s too late.’
‘I’m guessing it’s too late already. If he’s submitted the DA.’ He addressed Teagan. ‘Have you seen it yet, the Wellness Centre?’
She shook her head. ‘I haven’t been anywhere except here.’
‘Not even into the village?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Gird your loins. It’s a festering hive of intrigue and misdeeds.’
Ness poked him with her toe. ‘Stop it. The Falls is a perfectly nice place.’
‘If you don’t count Colin.’ He addressed Teagan again. ‘So you haven’t even seen the actual falls yet, the waterfall the village is named after? It’s worth a visit. I’ll take you to see it, if you want.’
Convinced he was being polite and didn’t mean it, Teagan gave a noncommittal nod.
The dozy quiet of evening was broken by a chopper sounding overhead.
Ness grimaced at the sound. ‘Callum heading back to town, I imagine. Pity he wouldn’t stay there.’
‘At least he put his name down and paid his dues,’ said Lucas. ‘Which is more than can be said for some. Anyway, you’re the one who sold him the block.’
‘Something I’m beginning to regret.’
A loud honk had them looking towards the drive. The chopper had drowned out the car’s arrival and now a sleek black Mercedes that Teagan recognised from Friday night was purring into the yard.
Dom alighted and strode towards the verandah, taking the steps two at a time, like a man arriving home. He nodded at Teagan, addressing her as he made his way to Ness. ‘Feeling better?’
‘Yes thanks.’ She cleared her throat. ‘And thanks for . . .’ She waved vaguely towards the house.
‘No problem. My business gives me plenty of experience in handling that sort of thing.’
Teagan could feel Lucas’s questioning gaze but kept her eyes averted. Margarita night was something she was in no hurry to discuss. Especially with him.
Dom bent to kiss Ness on the cheek before nodding coolly at Lucas. ‘Lucas.’
‘Domenic,’ Lucas replied even more coolly in return.
Ness was already tugging the champagne bottle from the ice bucket. ‘Kir?’
Dom glanced at Lucas before nodding. ‘Thank you.’
‘You stay here.’ She touched the back of his hand. ‘Talk to Teagan and Lucas while I fetch a glass.’
He smiled briefly as though acquiescing, only to take Vanessa’s elbow when she rose and escort her into the house, head bent closely towards hers. Teagan followed their progress with a frown, not liking the intense expression on Dom’s face. She hoped he wasn’t about to make accusations about whoever spilled his expansion plans, but his voice was too low for her to make out the words.
She glanced at Lucas. His gaze was also on Ness and Dom, his expression hostile as they disappeared from view. He downed the rest of his kir in one gulp and placed the empty flute on the table, easy manner and sparkling humour gone. Teagan stared into her drink. So that was the way
it went. Lucas would rather retreat than bear witness to the seductive charm of a rival.
‘Let me know if you need a hand with the fencing,’ he said. ‘My place is just up the road. I can easily swing by when things are quiet. I don’t mind helping out with the heavy stuff for half an hour or so.’
‘Thanks, but I really should be okay.’
‘Tough girl, huh?’
‘That’s me.’ She struck a brief muscleman pose that made him chuckle but didn’t change his mind about staying.
She watched him pause to pat Saffy as he passed and crouch quickly to inspect Betty and Wilma. Then he opened his ute door and raised his hand a final time in farewell.
Ness emerged with a tray of more food as the ute’s tail-lights fell away. Her lips thinned. ‘I really wish he wouldn’t do that.’ She set down the tray, snatched the champagne flute from Dom’s hand and filled it. A trickle of cassis followed. Her tone clearly annoyed, she said, ‘I don’t know what it is between you two, but whatever it is, it’s silly and I wish you’d stop.’
But Dom was staring towards the drive with a strange expression and didn’t answer.
‘These,’ said Vanessa, after ordering Teagan to slow down, ‘are our village shops. The bakery is lovely. Kathleen Ferguson, who serves most days, is not. Actually, that’s probably a little unkind. She’s just a small-minded busybody like Col, who hates change.’
Teagan laughed. ‘That’s hardly an improvement.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, but the woman rubs me up the wrong way and sometimes it’s a terrible effort to maintain my temper.’
Vanessa pointed across the bitumen carpark, still glistening and puddled from the remains of Sunday night’s showers. In a few hours, it’d be dull once more thanks to another unseasonably warm day. Vanessa was glad for it. Sunshine always made life brighter, and if anyone needed brightening up it was Teagan.
‘That’s Bunny’s practice. You’ll meet her Thursday night. She’s coming around for drinks. Assuming she isn’t waylaid, of course. Vets are notorious for being late. That’s the newsagent-cum-post office, which Antonio, bless him, half-heartedly runs. The IGA belongs to Gus and Debbie Anderson. Nice couple, the sort that volunteer for everything even though they don’t have time. Country folk from way back who had to sell their farm when they couldn’t last another drought. Poor darlings, they must miss it.’ Realising the reminder she’d just given Teagan, Vanessa quickly indicated the chemist and doctor’s surgery. ‘Perfectly serviceable for an emergency, but I prefer my own doctor in town. More than happy to get you an appointment if you need one.’
‘I’m not planning on getting sick.’
‘None of us ever do, but these things happen.’ Vanessa held back on saying she suspected deeply that Teagan already was ill, maybe not in body but definitely in mind. Although, to be fair, her niece seemed a little cheerier this morning. Perhaps all she needed was some undisturbed sleep.
Certainly the charcoal smudges of fatigue beneath her eyes weren’t as harsh, and the worry lines – so distressing to see on someone so young and pretty – had eased. But three days after arrival Teagan still wasn’t eating well, picking at her food and poking it into the edges of her plate, and she was consuming alcohol with little restraint. Vanessa hoped she wouldn’t have to resort to going dry. She so enjoyed her cocktails and company. It reminded her of the joyful days of her past, before things had turned sour and sad. And dinner without wine was too uncivilised to contemplate.
She continued her narrative, careful to keep the worry out of her voice. ‘The takeaway is run by Antonio’s sister. She’s nice, too, although unfortunately not a fan of mine. If you ever need to drop in for fish and chips perhaps it’s best not to mention that you’re staying at Falls Farm. I wouldn’t put it past her to spit in the batter.’
She pointed out the rural fire brigade and the bowling club, and a few of her favourite locals’ houses until the village passed and the road went back to eighty kilometres an hour. Suddenly, a two-metre-high, barbed-wire-topped cyclone fence began to stretch down the side of the road. Inside it, a thick stand of lilly pilly formed a lush hedge, offering only short glimpses of the manicured property beyond. The fence ended, replaced by a large rendered brick wall that continued for fifty metres before sweeping inwards to form the entrance to a large driveway. Tall wrought gates topped with brass fleur-de-lis spikes stood closed. A plaque on the wall – matched on the opposite wing of the entrance where the wall continued – spelled out ‘The Falls Wellness Centre’ in shiny brass lettering. Below, in smaller print, ran the line, ‘By Appointment Only’.
Teagan let out a whistle and hunched over the steering wheel for a closer look. ‘Bloody hell.’
Vanessa’s reaction had been similar when she’d first spied the centre eleven years ago. It was far less established then and under different management, but still impressive. Impressiveness that took on new meaning under Dom’s captaincy.
His vision was broad and inspired. He had the innate ability to recognise and fulfil clients’ desires. Women, in particular, who comprised the majority of his business. He understood their need for privacy and luxury, as well as the scope to find healing. Vanessa had learned long ago that women possessed a limitless capacity to lay burdens on themselves. Dom, with his astute eye and attention to detail, had created a place where they could ease those loads in a way that made them feel strong instead of weak.
Although hidden from the road, the complex radiated out from the property’s original historic homestead. A large, very modern reception building welcomed guests as though they were checking into an exclusive hotel. From there, clients were escorted by their personal attendant to their suite inside the homestead or to one of the hidden villas that dotted the pristine, designer-landscaped grounds. Depending on their requirements, guests were free to range and relax, availing themselves of the centre’s various spa facilities and activity studios, or were guided through a tailored treatment program.
While most staff were skilled in natural therapies, the centre also boasted trained medical staff, including nurses, psychologists, and a full-time doctor, with specialist practitioners available on call. Although not well-publicised, this formed the more serious side of the business, where the focus was on addiction and mental health issues, and which accounted for Dom’s obsession with confidentiality. It was much easier for someone to cover up treatment of a serious disorder with the airy proclamation that they were enjoying a week or more of pampered luxury. Without insider knowledge, no one could prove otherwise.
It seemed odd to have this exclusive, privacy-obsessed centre so close to a village where everyone knew everyone else’s business. But as had been proven over the weekend, even the best-kept secrets can leak out. Most of the professional staff lived elsewhere, in the McMansions of the ever-expanding western suburbs or up in the bush-coated mountains, and travelled to work. The more menial positions tended to be filled by locals. A place of the centre’s size required a brigade of cleaners and cooks and gardeners. All staff were bound by strict confidentiality agreements, and those Dom currently employed tended to be the more reliable of the locals. With the expansion he might be forced to take on others he’d previously rejected, the ones with fewer scruples. Sadly, The Falls wasn’t short on those.
As they cruised past, an approaching black Humvee with heavily tinted windows slowed and indicated. Triggered by remote, the gate began to ease open. Teagan decelerated even further as the two cars passed, staring out the side window with her mouth slightly agape. Smiling, Vanessa waved at the driver, Andrejus, who remained stony-faced behind the windscreen. She dropped her hand. Andrejus was a sweet man, but deeply professional when on a job and unlikely to have recognised her in the battered LandCruiser anyway.
Out of curiosity, she used the side mirror to watch the Humvee turn into the centre’s drive and slide through the gates, Teagan doing the same in the rear-vision mirror. They wouldn’t see anyone. Whoever the arrival was, their identity would b
e hidden all the way to their private room.
‘Another of Domenic’s famous clients?’ asked Teagan, speeding up.
‘Probably. Although he has had the occasional North Shore bride check in with her bridesmaids for a few days of indulgence.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. With the exception of Dom’s private quarters, the centre is strictly alcohol-free.’ She laughed at Teagan’s screwed-up nose. ‘I know, but it’s proved rather necessary. A few years ago one of Dom’s more desperate clients was caught glugging from a bottle of alcohol rub used in massage therapy. Had to be rushed off for a stomach pump. Now even the mouthwash is alcohol-free.’
Teagan gave a shudder. ‘I can’t imagine ever being that desperate. Have you been inside?’
‘Only to use the spa facilities. Dom treats me to a pamper session every year for my birthday and occasionally at Christmas. It’s beautiful. Complete indulgence. Very quiet too, like being in your own private palace. Dom said they provide group therapy with certain drug- and alcohol-treatment programs, but mostly it’s just you and the staff who are all quiet as church mice.’
‘What do you have done?’
Vanessa waved a hand. ‘Oh, the usual. Sauna, spa, massage. I did have one of the naturopaths try to talk me into a coffee enema once. Colonic hydrotherapy they call it.’
‘Yuck.’
‘Quite. Coffee is for oral consumption only.’ She stroked a finger along the dirty window. ‘Although Dom said some cancer sufferers find it beneficial as a complementary treatment. It helps them cope with the pain. I guess if you were in that position you’d try anything for relief. Poor loves.’
‘Sounds like quackery to me. I mean, there’s no scientific basis for this stuff so why encourage it?’
Vanessa frowned at Teagan’s unsympathetic tone. She may not have had that much to do with her niece over the years, but she’d never remembered her like this. Teagan had always been a kind child, especially with animals. As a little girl, whenever Vanessa visited, Teagan could barely wait to show her aunt around the farm. She’d tug on her hand and demand her aunt come see her pony, newly dropped lambs or calves, or one of the working dog’s bundle of squirming puppies. And all the time she would babble about her friends and their horses, asking if Vanessa had any pets in Italy, what her life was like, if she could come visit. She was a darling girl, happy and carefree.
