by Cathryn Hein
‘Okay,’ said Em, starting the clippers.
‘Just loads of great sex then?’
‘Something like that.’
‘So you’re definitely back together?’ asked Teagan.
Em brushed a swathe of cut hair away, screwing her nose up in concentration as she guided the clippers close to Lod’s ears. The darling horse barely flinched, allowing her to work carefully around the area and down his jawline.
She stepped off the crate to attack the underside of his neck. ‘Looks like it.’
‘What do you mean, “looks like it.”? You either are or you aren’t.’
Em turned the clippers off and leaned into Lod’s warm solid body, one arm crossed over herself. ‘I don’t know if he’ll ever really forgive me for what I did.’
‘It’s only early days,’ said Jas, without any sign of the jokiness she’d displayed previously when discussing Josh. She knew Em well enough to recognise her uncertainty. ‘He’s being careful. You can’t blame him.’
No, Em couldn’t.
‘How are Digby and Felicity?’ asked Teagan.
‘Now, that’s a whole other story.’ She met their eyes in turn. ‘Promise me you’ll keep this to yourself? For a while, at least, until she’s properly settled. She’s terrified about it getting out.’
Jas exchanged a worried look with Teagan and turned back. ‘About what getting out?’
‘She did time in jail.’
Teagan’s eyes turned enormous. ‘Jail?’
‘Too many parking fines?’ asked Jas.
‘Not exactly,’ said Em, fiddling unnecessarily with the clippers. ‘Attempted manslaughter.’
‘Oh my God.’
‘Are you serious?’
Em rushed on. ‘But it’s not as bad as it sounds.’
‘How can it not be?’ said Teagan. ‘We’re talking manslaughter.’ She glanced at Jas, looking for support, but Jas’s attention was fixed on Em.
‘Attempted manslaughter,’ corrected Em.
‘Oh, right. Like that makes all the difference.’
Finally Jas spoke. ‘I’m guessing extenuating circumstances?’
She’d anticipated censure from Teagan but Jas had a suspicious look she didn’t appreciate. What Charles had revealed about Felicity’s life with Mark Ainsley was sickening. The man deserved what he got. Em couldn’t prevent her sharp tone. ‘She stabbed her fiancé to stop from being hurt, again. So yes, you could say there were extenuating circumstances.’
‘And how long was she in jail for?’ asked Jas, still not softening her expression.
‘Almost two years. Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Because I think you should be careful of her.’
‘Why? She hasn’t done anything to me.’
‘Except maybe get a bit too fond of the hill.’
Em dropped her arms and moved away from Lod. ‘God, you sound like Gran.’
‘What’s your gran saying?’ asked Teagan.
‘That she’s causing discontent in the family. That she has some sort of agenda. Which is ridiculous.’
Jas glanced over her shoulder at Teagan, and some sort of message passed between them. Em bit her lip against the hurt that look caused.
‘But you’ve mentioned yourself how much both she and Digby have changed since she arrived,’ said Jas.
‘Yes, and for the better.’
Lod shuffled backwards. Em reached out a hand to calm him, using the strength of his body to try to calm herself at the same time.
‘Look, I know she did something awful. But she’s paid a terrible price. And now she’s found safety and happiness with Digby’ – she slapped a palm against her chest – ‘with us. Who are we to judge anyway? None of us could ever fathom what she’s been through. We’ve all done shit things in our lives. That doesn’t mean we should be condemned forever. It’s unfair.’ Her voice turned husky as she willed away tears that were more for herself than Felicity. ‘People deserve second chances.’
‘All right, all right,’ said Jas, holding her palms up. ‘We were out of line. You’re right, we shouldn’t judge.’
Teagan stepped forward to touch her arm. ‘We’re sorry, Em.’
She nodded, but the hurt of her friends’ betrayal remained.
The morning crept by. A newly clipped Lod, his coat a silvery-brown, was led to his stable and swapped with Ox, while Astra continued to ignore Teagan’s soothing tones and pets, and merely traded her pacing for quivery-lipped stares and head-bobs.
The air filled with the hum of insects and bees, attracted by the row of flowering golden wattles Granny B had planted along the northern fence line of the hill paddock. The sun rose higher, deliciously warm, evaporation from the wet plants and soil turning the air unseasonably muggy. Rocking Horse Hill’s crater seemed to surge as though reaching, its outcrops poking rocky fingers into the stunning azure sky.
Leaving Jas to Ox, Em leaned against Lod’s half-door, absently stroking his velvety muzzle as she watched a tourist pick her way around the crater rim. The woman paused every so often to admire the view and point a camera at the broad sweep of fertile land below. The sight made Em smile. No matter how many times she’d climbed the hill herself, the thrill, the sheer pride in her history, never diminished.
The tourist made her think of Josh and the emotions she’d experienced during their first climb together, when they were young. The satisfaction of seeing him stand at the top, puffing from the effort, his hands on his hips as he stared first outwards, drinking in the clean air and scenery before him, then turned inwards to marvel at the crater’s sheer walls.
She’d led him down into the volcano’s heart, worming along the secret route she’d known since her mother had taken her to the centre when she was small. They’d stood at the bottom, near the lake residue, and he’d taken her hand and squeezed, a silent thank you. Like he understood now how she really felt about Rocking Horse Hill.
‘What are you smiling at?’ asked Teagan, sliding to her side.
‘I was thinking about the first time Josh and I climbed the hill.’
‘Must have been romantic.’
‘It was. Back then.’ She smiled at Teagan, not wanting to let their earlier confrontation come between them. She valued her friends too much. ‘How are things at home?’
Teagan crossed her arms. ‘Not great.’
‘You can talk to me, you know.’
‘I know.’
‘I’m worried about you, Blissbomb,’ she said, using Teagan’s teenage nickname.
‘That’s because it’s your nature to worry about everyone.’ She gave a hint of smile, but there was no stealing the desolation from her eyes. ‘I loaned Dad the money.’
Em inhaled deeply. ‘I thought you would.’
‘I had no choice.’ She stared at her feet. ‘Everything’s so fucked up.’
‘I know. But it’ll get better, I promise.’ She waited until Teagan lifted her head and held her gaze. ‘Promise me you’ll come to me if you need help. Any time, day or night.’ She reached across to squeeze her hand. ‘I’m here for you, okay?’
Her eyes glistening, Teagan nodded.
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
‘Good.’ Not quite what Em hoped, but it would do for now.
As expected, Astra threw a tantrum as soon as Em switched the clippers on. The filly skittered about, legs going everywhere, eyes boggling at the clippers. Even with three women holding her and trying to keep her calm it was hopeless. After being trodden on for what felt like the tenth time, Em jogged off to the shed, returning with a piece of poly pipe that had a loop of twine threaded through the two holes of one end. She handed it to Teagan who hooked her hand through the loop and, with Jas gripping Astra’s halter and one ear, grabbed a handful of soft muzzle. Rapidly twisting the pipe, she coiled the loop tight until the point of Astra’s nose was squashed into a tight flesh bubble.
Teagan stayed at her head, stroking her neck and making sooth
ing noises, waiting for Astra to calm. None of them liked to use the twitch, but the restraining device didn’t harm the horse unless left on too long. Instead, it gave the horse an almighty endorphin rush, which calmed them.
‘Ready?’ asked Em, holding up the clippers.
Teagan nodded. Astra’s bottom lip showed a telltale droop, and her eyes were glassy.
They worked quickly, taking turns to clip and hold the twitch. Lod and Ox regarded them with clever old eyes from their warm stables. By the time they’d finished, everyone, including Astra, was exhausted and messy with hair and dirt.
Em joined Jas and Teagan in heaping praise on Astra, and complimenting each other on a job well done. Astra, for once, took the attention with composure, either still on a high or simply tired of playing prima donna.
‘You’re a good girl,’ said Teagan, leaning forward to give her a last proud kiss on the nose. But as she bent close, Astra suddenly jerked her head up, connecting hard with her mistress in the process. Teagan let out a yelp, further scaring the horse, which barrelled backwards, loose lead dragging.
‘Grab her,’ yelled Em to Jas, who was closest.
Teagan held her hand cupped over her face. Blood was already seeping down her wrist and soaking the edges of her windcheater.
‘Here, let me look.’
‘Not broken,’ Teagan managed. ‘Just bleeding.’
A quick glance as Teagan pulled her hand away and Em agreed. The blood was from one nostril only and already the flow was beginning to ease. Em patted her on the back. This wasn’t the first time one of them had been nose-punched by a horse. It came with the territory, and they were country women who didn’t get overexcited about a bit of blood.
‘Just keep your head dropped forward for a minute until it stops.’
Disobeying, Teagan watched her horse, still backpedalling up the slope, dragging Jas with her. ‘She was being so good. I wonder what set her off.’
‘They’re donkeys, you twit of a horse,’ yelled Jas. ‘Not bloody zebras!’
Donkeys.
Planting her hands on her hips, Em stalked past the edge of the stables and came face to face with two stumpy and extremely smug looking equines.
She threw her arms up at them. ‘How?’
They shuffled closer, heads down and ears drooping like a pair of naughty dogs who knew they’d been bad but were equally certain of forgiveness. Lod gave a whicker of welcome that Kicki and Cutie took as a signal to shamble even nearer.
‘Bad donkeys,’ said Em, glaring at them. ‘Bad, bad donkeys.’
Teagan gave a clotted-up snort of laughter. ‘They’re not dogs.’
‘They bloody well behave like a pair of them. They were locked up.’ She narrowed her eyes at Kicki. ‘And they were meant to stay that way.’
The jack bunted her in the hip, big ears twirling, before raising his head to regard her with eyes that had melted her sook of a heart from the first emailed photograph. Safe now Kicki had paved the way, Cutie stepped closer, looking for a scratch too.
‘Troublemakers,’ Em sighed, before indulging them. ‘I can’t figure out how they do it. It’s a hook-and-eye gate latch.’
‘They take after their godmother,’ said Jas, huffing as she led a still-skittish Astra back to them. ‘Clever little darlings.’
‘Here.’ Teagan reached out for Astra. ‘I’ll take her.’
Jas looked her up and down. ‘Absolutely not. You look like Dracula’s bride with all that blood. Go inside and wash. I’ll sort your horse out.’
‘Better do as you’re told.’ Em smiled at Teagan’s red-streaked face, the result of trying to clean herself up with her hands and the front of her jumper. ‘And you do look pretty bad.’
Outnumbered, Teagan held up her arms and trudged off.
Em watched her go. ‘God, I hope she’s okay.’
‘She’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.’
‘Me?’ Keeping her tone unconcerned, Em began to gather equipment. ‘You’re seeing trouble where there isn’t any.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. But it can’t hurt to watch your back.’
‘That’s what Gran said.’
‘Wise old woman. Maybe you should listen to her.’
Nineteen
Em met Granny B at Camrick’s laundry door. The old lady’s hair was stiffer than normal, matching her posture and mouth. She wasn’t looking forward to tonight’s dinner. Between the carpet, the claim about Adrienne’s drinking, and Felicity knowing that Granny B had had her investigated – news she’d no doubt shared with Digby – it was bound to be awkward.
There was also Em’s own uncertainty. An insistent unease left by Jasmine’s warning that she couldn’t shake, no matter how much she chided herself for it. What she hated most was how it reminded her of what had happened with Josh. The way the sly arrow-barbs about Josh’s unsuitability had at first bounced off her love, but had over time worn away at her armour and begun to lodge. Hear something often enough and you’ll begin to believe it.
Except Em was older now, smarter, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Felicity had demonstrated nothing but courage and friendship towards Em since her arrival. Jas, Granny B, Josh and everyone else could say what they liked. This time around Em’s defences were strong.
‘You look amazing,’ she said, as her grandmother helped Em out of her coat and hung it up. ‘Been somewhere?’
Today Granny B’s elegance had reached an even more impressive height. A pair of navy cigarette pants showed off long legs enhanced by a pair of low-heeled patent pumps. Her gold silk shirt sported a high collar, the neck fixed with a tasteful but expensive pearl brooch that matched the triple-stranded pearl bracelet around her left wrist. Her make-up was deftly applied: rouge adding colour to her heavily powdered cheeks, eyes smoky with eye shadow and liner.
‘A late afternoon tea with Barry McClintoff and that idiot new councillor, Herriott.’
‘I gather it wasn’t fun.’
‘I do so loathe vegetarians. Ridiculous people.’
‘Could have been worse,’ joked Em, desperate to keep things light. Granny B’s tumultuous mood did not bode well. ‘She could have been vegan.’
‘Indeed.’ Granny B maintained a special dislike for vegans. ‘Hard to trust these people, though, isn’t it? As I pointed out, if nature had wanted us to be vegetarian she would have given us a rumen. Anyway, how does the silly woman think we grew brains the size we did?’ Granny B huffed. ‘And she refused wine.’
‘She probably had to work.’
‘That may be true, but it’s hardly supporting local agriculture. Barry and I made up for it. Enjoyed a rather nice pinot from Ryan’s. That winery is doing very well for itself. I proposed to Barry that we host a local wine festival to run concurrently with Art Week, but the Herriott woman thought the idea “unwise in light of the town’s youth drinking culture”. What about the rest of us? Just because she’s part of the lunatic greenie fringe doesn’t meant the rest of us should suffer.’
‘Gran.’
Granny B rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t start, Emily. I’m seventy-nine years old. I’m permitted my prejudices.’ She cocked her arm. ‘Come along. Let’s get this dinner over with.’
Em tried to ignore the new carpet as she made her way to the kitchen but the awfulness of it was impossible to not notice. Granny B eyed her with thin lips, worry etching deeper lines across her forehead.
Em glanced warily towards the kitchen door. ‘Is she still drinking?’
‘Yes.’ Granny B’s mouth wobbled. She wrung her hands, the movement causing Em’s unease to tighten. ‘It’s that girl!’
Em shushed her. ‘Please, Gran.’
‘Don’t “Please, Gran” me. You of all people should understand what’s at stake.’
‘There’s nothing at stake.’ Except maybe Digby’s heart, but given Em’s conversation with Felicity on her return from Adelaide, that seemed pretty safe.
‘And the hill?’
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Mention of the hill brought Em to a halt. She looked up the hall, where light sliced a sharp diamond across the carpet from the half-open kitchen door, and from where a soft tinkle of laughter could be heard. The sound wrenched at the anxiety already coiled slimy and malignant through her insides.
‘Yes, Emily. Now you’re beginning to understand.’ Granny B clasped Em’s arm. ‘She means to take it from you.’
Shrugging from her grandmother’s grip, Em lifted her hand to her temple, where the edge of a headache had started to form. ‘I don’t know where you get that idea from.’
But she did. Deep down, she did.
‘Listen to her closely over dinner, then you’ll see.’
Em swallowed and resumed walking. She had to maintain faith: in Digby’s promise, in her friendship with Felicity, in her own sense of fairness and charity. In the belief that they’d sort this out like they sorted all their problems out.
She paused at the kitchen door and inhaled theatrically. ‘Something smells amazing.’
‘It does,’ said Samuel. ‘Adrienne’s treating us to her famous gigot de sept heures, aren’t you, sweetheart?’
‘And crème brûlée flavoured with sauternes.’
Em kissed her mother, her hug lingering for longer than normal. ‘You spoil us.’
Adrienne patted her hand, her smile lacking its normal energy. ‘I just want everyone to be happy.’
‘Can I get you a glass of wine?’ asked Samuel. ‘I brought a new viognier for us to try.’
‘Yes, please,’ replied Em, thanking God for Samuel. He’d keep things in check. ‘I’d love one.’
He bent to Adrienne. ‘Top up?’
‘Please.’
Em felt Granny B’s gaze but chose to ignore it. She walked over to Felicity and Digby, kissing them both hello. Tonight, Felicity wore an almost identical outfit to the one Em had worn to the drinks party. The high-heeled boots gave her extra height and stature, but her hands were set low in front of her belly, wrapped tight as though in comfort and self-protection. The gesture rallied Em’s sympathy and calmed the irritation she’d felt upon seeing Felicity’s clothes – irritation that had worsened at the sight of the sapphire necklace around Felicity’s neck, a piece that had been in the family for generations.
