Rocking Horse Hill

by Cathryn Hein

  She bent close to avoid being overheard. ‘Chin up. It’s just a dinner. If you can make it through jail, you can make it through this.’

  Felicity’s huge blue eyes flooded with gratitude. ‘Thanks.’

  Digby cast an unpleasant look his grandmother’s way and spoke with his voice also lowered. ‘We need to have a chat later.’

  They did, if only to clarify where Em stood when it came to Rocking Horse Hill.

  She nodded and turned to accept a glass of wine from Samuel.

  ‘Everything all right?’ he asked, glancing between the three of them.

  ‘Everything’s fine, Samuel, thanks.’ She took a sip and raised the glass. ‘This is very good.’

  Samuel bowed. ‘I aim to please.’

  ‘And please you do, mightily,’ said Em, determined, like Samuel seemed to be, to ease the awful tension clogging the room. Throwing Felicity another encouraging smile, she followed him back to Adrienne’s side. ‘Anything I can do?’

  ‘No, no. I’m all organised. Felicity has been a great help, as usual. Why don’t you all head into the lounge so I can set out plates?’

  Em hovered as the others left. She didn’t like the way Adrienne’s glass was close to empty already, or the nervous smile that kept twitching her mouth. Even her attire, normally perfect, seemed somehow amiss. It lacked polish: those little finishing flourishes that took an ensemble from everyday to chic. Adrienne wore a pair of camel-coloured trousers teamed with leopard-print brown loafers and a dark brown silk shirt that matched her piled-up hair. A gorgeous outfit, except there was no matching belt, and her earrings were diamond instead of pearl or the smoky quartz pair passed down to her by Grandma Agnes. Little things, but they mattered.

  ‘You don’t have to stay, darling,’ said Adrienne, laying a trivet on the centre bench. ‘I have it all sorted.’

  ‘I’d rather be here. The kitchen’s my favourite place, remember?’

  ‘How could I forget? You were always under my feet when you were small.’ Adrienne smiled fondly. ‘Of course, that all changed the moment James bought you Beaver. Then it was all horse, horse, horse.’ She regarded the stove and sighed, and Em noticed the puffiness around her eyes, the tightness of her mouth that no make-up could cover and only sleep or relaxation could cure. ‘Well, I’d best get this lamb organised.’

  There was so much Em wanted to probe her mother about – if Granny B had said anything about Felicity, what was troubling her that was leading her to drink more than usual – but it wasn’t the right time. Perhaps on Saturday, after the shop closed, they could have lunch together, talk. Wash this worry away the way they’d done so many times before.

  ‘I love you, Mum,’ Em said out of nowhere, startling Adrienne.

  Her mother smiled hesitantly. ‘And I love you, Em.’ She pulled on a pair of thick oven mitts. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘No problems with Josh?’

  ‘Nothing like that. I just wanted you to know I love you, that’s all. We don’t say it enough.’

  This time, Adrienne’s smile was genuine. ‘We probably don’t, but we know it’s there, all the same.’

  Em laid out plates as her mum removed a casserole pot from the oven. Lid off, the dish smelled even more delicious: aromatic with herbs, tomato, vegetables, wine and the all-important garlic. Em held a wooden chopping board steady while Adrienne lifted the boned leg of lamb from the pot and placed it down, taking care to keep the meat intact. The seven-hour cooking time had left it melt-in-the-mouth tender. While the meat rested, Em helped Adrienne sieve the fragrant jus from the cooking vegetables before retrieving a tray of roast vegetables from the oven.

  They worked in tandem, the way they often had before, sharing brief smiles across steaming plates, and Em felt a little comfort return. Tonight would be all right. Of course it would.

  Leaving her mother to finish serving, Em carried the gravy boat to the dining room, calling the others as she went. Samuel’s voice sang back as he ushered them all to dinner and Em again said a silent thanks for this nice man and his skill at keeping harmony intact.

  Over dinner the conversation centred on the hill and the horse Digby planned to buy for Felicity. It was almost as if Digby wanted to deliberately provoke his grandmother. Adding to the tension, Felicity appeared to have taken Em’s ‘chin up’ to heart and was joining in.

  Granny B’s face grew increasingly mutinous as the talk of competing in shows and even buying a new truck, one of those expensive models with a kitchenette and bunks for overnight stays, continued. She swapped a look with Em who could only hide her increasing disquiet with a shrug. Besides, if Digby wanted to spend a stupid amount of money buying Felicity a horse truck for them both to use she’d be mad to complain.

  ‘We could build more stables, too, couldn’t we, Digby? For when we have more horses.’

  Em’s spoon lodged in her brûlée. She stared at it, feeling it curdle in her stomach, along with her thoughts. A horse was one thing, so were expensive trucks, but disrupting Em’s life by building stables was in another realm.

  It was almost as though Felicity really did have ideas about taking over the hill.

  ‘And when, pray tell,’ said Granny B, her voice taking on the high, articulate edge that signalled an unravelling temper, ‘were you proposing to consult Emily about this?’

  ‘Em’s all for it,’ said Digby. ‘Aren’t you, Em?’

  Stalling for time, Em raised her napkin and pretended to dab at her mouth. She searched for something diplomatic to say. ‘Well, I’m not sure —’

  But the fight was between Granny B and Digby, and neither was letting go.

  ‘Rocking Horse Hill is Emily’s home, not yours.’

  ‘Last time I looked it was my name on the deeds.’

  Granny B kept her cold glare on Digby. ‘More’s the tragedy.’

  ‘Please don’t,’ said Adrienne.

  Samuel wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ‘A discussion for another time, perhaps?’

  ‘When?’ snapped Granny B. ‘After he’s broken his promise and stolen Emily’s home from under her? A property, mind, he never once showed an interest in until she’ – Granny B stabbed a finger towards Felicity – ‘came along.’

  ‘Samuel’s right, Gran,’ said Em, throwing Felicity a sideways look. This was a conversation she and Digby needed to have in private. Not now, with everyone het up and festering with other secrets and betrayals. ‘Another time.’

  ‘No. I will not let this continue.’ Granny B threw down her napkin and bent across the table, finger jabbing at Digby. ‘You need to open your eyes to what’s going on around here.’

  ‘The only thing going on is your prejudice.’ Digby hurled his own napkin down. ‘You’re nothing but a bigot, Gran. An intolerant throwback who belongs to another time.’

  ‘Think what you like, Digby, but I am protecting this family.’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘Her!’

  ‘Audrey, please!’

  But Granny B wasn’t listening to anyone, least of all Samuel. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling dangerously. She raised herself from her chair, her gaze locked on Felicity’s. The girl shrivelled even further into her seat. ‘You are nothing but a cuckoo in the nest. A rotten creature come to do evil. Well, I won’t let you. Do you hear me? I will not let you.’

  Granny B straightened, her body rigid with fury, and stalked from the room.

  Silence fell. For a moment, Em could only stare at her grandmother’s vacant seat while her heart thumped. Then she breathed in hard and faced Felicity. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Felicity’s eyes were enormous and brimming. She blinked, setting fat tears rolling. Even in distress, her beauty seemed to grow, as though an angel had begun to weep.

  Recovering from his shock, Digby moved to cradle her, whispering soothing words. Samuel’s voice joined in as Adrienne dissolved into sobs. Only Em remained unmoving, too stunned at events to react.

/>   What her grandmother had done was unconscionable, yet even Em could now see the subject needed airing, that the liberties being taken were too much. But to call Felicity some sort of usurper, here to do evil? That was not only unfair, but deeply cruel.

  Casting tight smiles at her family, Em left the table. Given all their ragged tempers, this might not be the best time but her grandmother was going to get a talking to regardless. She crossed out into the hall and took a few steps, pausing to look back. Felicity remained in Digby’s arms, the top half of her face above his shoulder. She was looking at the ceiling, as though trying to penetrate to Granny B’s rooms above, the corners of her eyes pinched with vicious focus.

  A dizzying deluge of cold washed through Em. She turned away in disbelief, breathing hard. But when she looked back, Felicity’s face was again soft with anguish.

  And the heart-chilling expression of vengeance Em thought she’d seen was gone.

  Twenty

  Em murmured and turned over but the noise came insistent again, prodding her to full consciousness. She sat up, heart slugging hard, and frowned into the dark. Another ring echoed. Real. Not a dream.

  She reached for the bedside phone and checked the number on its screen. ‘Mum?’

  Her mother’s panicked voice came in rapid, breathless bursts. ‘It’s your grandmother. She’s on her way to hospital.’

  ‘Hospital?’ Em’s insides lurched as any number of terrors flooded her mind. Heart attack, stroke, a fall? Not Granny B. Please, not Granny B. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Hypothermia. She locked herself out on the balcony.’

  Em blinked. The balcony? Impossible. Granny B kept a key hidden as insurance for such an event. ‘How bad?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Adrienne began to sob, the sound frightening and half-choked, as if she were fighting nausea as well as distress. ‘She looked awful, Em. So pale and still.’

  Em threw off the doona and flicked on the light, snatching up clothes one-handed. ‘Could she talk?’ When her mother didn’t answer she asked again, her tone made harsh with dread. ‘Mum! Could Gran talk?’

  ‘She could, but all her words were slurred.’

  Em forced her voice back to normal. ‘Okay. Where are you now?’

  ‘With Digby. Following the ambulance.’

  ‘Where’s Felicity?’ Em didn’t know why she asked; all she knew was that a mean, suspicious feeling had slithered into her gut.

  ‘We thought it best to leave her at home.’

  The suspicion tightened its coils. She shrugged it away. Felicity wouldn’t hurt Gran. The idea was insane. She tugged on the other sock. ‘She must have called out. Why didn’t anyone hear her?’

  ‘I was asleep.’ Her mother’s breath was rough with tears and something else. Remorse? ‘I went to bed early. I haven’t been sleeping well, especially after what happened Tuesday night. I had a couple of glasses of wine to help and they put me out.’

  Em pulled on jeans. Camrick was old and solid, but surely her mother would have heard Granny B’s calls. Unless it was more than a couple of glasses of wine.

  ‘Where was Digby?’

  ‘At a grape-growers’ meeting. He was caught up. By the time he came home she’d been out there for hours. He only noticed because her lights were still on.’

  ‘What was Felicity doing? She must have heard something.’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Adrienne began to cry more freely. Em closed her eyes, reining in her need to blame.

  ‘Shh, Mum. It’ll be all right. Gran’s tougher than any of us.’ The sobbing eased only a fraction but Em didn’t have any time to offer more solace. ‘I’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?’

  She hung up, and finished dragging on clothes. Muffy stood at the doorway, watching, her tail swinging and stopping, aware something was going on.

  Em paused to quickly stroke her head. ‘It’s okay, Muff.’ Except she knew it wasn’t. The memory of Felicity’s eyes two nights before, that narrowed expression of vengeance turning her pretty features dark, fuelled the disquiet within Em.

  There was a key secreted under the coir mat at the front of the balcony door. It had been there since Em could remember as protection against the deadlocked door swinging shut. Everyone knew about it. A favourite family tale was of Uncle James shimmying up the side of the house and climbing over the balcony to let himself in one afternoon when he’d locked himself out, only for the police to turn up five minutes later, tipped off by a passer-by who’d noticed his ‘break in’.

  Why hadn’t Gran used the key? It must have fallen somehow – been accidentally swept or kicked over the edge, or lodged between a crack in the floorboards.

  Conjecture kept Em occupied as she rushed into Levenham. Better than the alternative, which was fretting over the severity of Granny B’s hypothermia, a condition that could prove fatal for a woman of her age. Fatal for anyone, if bad enough.

  Fatal. Em didn’t want to think about that. Or about an idea that kept circling: that Granny B had been deliberately locked out.

  Even later, when the emergency team had done their work and she was waiting with her mum and brother beside Granny B’s bed, their panic eased by the doctor’s promise that her grandmother should make a full recovery, it kept nagging.

  Em took Adrienne’s hand. ‘I told you she was tough.’

  Adrienne looked terrible, her eyes bloodshot, her hair dishevelled. Her hands, to Em’s alarm, were trembling. Was it worry, hangover or fear? So many questions, none easy to ask. None that could be asked there, in the sterile hospital, in front of Digby.

  She eyed her brother, wondering if he suffered similar doubts. Where his loyalty might lay if the question arose. But all she could detect was fatigue and concern.

  At three a.m., Digby left them, citing his worry at leaving Felicity alone, promising to return in the morning. Em tried to get Adrienne to go with him but her mother refused. Now was the moment to ask her mother what was going on. Now was the moment to take her trembling hand and hold it tightly. But Adrienne’s eyes were so tired and sad that Em couldn’t. Together they sat through the night, watching Granny B’s frail curled-up form, preoccupied by their own thoughts.

  Granny B was declared out of danger the following morning, and transferred to a ward. Her breathing was hoarse and laboured, and cause for concern, particularly given her smoker’s status, and there were still threats, the doctors said: pneumonia and pulmonary oedema.

  Granny B said little, but scrutinised them all with her pale hazel eyes, especially Em. She coolly thanked Digby on his return, for his part in her rescue, then patted Adrienne’s hand and ordered her home to rest. Em received a series of meaningful looks, which kept her lingering in the room after her mother and brother had gone, even though she had animals to tend and a shop to open.

  Granny B watched the ward entrance for a long moment. When no one reappeared she beckoned Em close to the bed. Her voice was weak but clear. ‘It was her.’

  ‘Did you see her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then how do you know?’

  Granny B swallowed then coughed. Em passed her some water and watched her sip, her chest tight with concern. Granny B lay back, breathing hard. ‘The key was gone.’

  Not an indictment in itself. There were any number of reasons for the key not to be where it should have been. ‘Couldn’t it have fallen over the balcony edge? Become lost in the garden or in the gravel?’

  ‘Check if you like. You won’t find it.’

  ‘But how would Felicity even know about it?’

  ‘Adrienne told her the story about James.’ Granny B took a few wheezy breaths. ‘It was her. You know it was.’

  ‘To what end, Gran?’

  ‘To get me out of the way. What else?’ Another band of ragged coughs engulfed her body. Eyes watering, she sank back onto the bed. ‘You don’t want to believe. You just want to keep your head in the sand.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Isn’t it? You know what
she’s done to this family since she arrived. You’ve seen the rifts she’s caused. And you know she’s cap­able of violence.’ Granny B closed her eyes, pain etching her face. Without her make-up and expensive clothes, with her skin pale and her hair in stiff, wayward spikes, she appeared old and breakable. ‘Damn Digby. Damn him for everything. None of this would be happening if he’d kept his trousers on.’

  ‘The only thing Digby did was fall in love.’

  ‘With a girl who has the power to take everything from us, even our homes.’ A bony hand gripped Em’s arm. ‘And last night proved she will do anything to keep that power.’

  Em picked up a notebook off the storeroom bench, where she’d stacked the damaged stock from Granny B’s tower-of-notebooks sculpture, and put it down again. Enough tiptoeing. Now was the time for answers.

  She crossed her arms and addressed her brother. ‘I don’t want to believe Felicity had anything to do with this either, but I need to know where she was.’

  Digby’s eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, his clothes wrinkled, as if he’d picked them straight off the floor. Stubble darkened his jaw. He kept checking his watch, his movements jerky, his gaze sliding away from Em. He’d taken a sick day, a luxury Em didn’t have, so she’d requested he call in on her at the shop. Alone.

  It was late morning and already Em felt clumsy with exhaustion. Her eyes were scratchy, her muscles leaden. She had no idea how she’d make it through the day. On nerves and caffeine, she supposed. After two cups of extra-strong coffee since her arrival, she’d swapped to tea, but neither she nor Digby were in the mood for it. Tea meant congeniality and the small room was devoid of that.

  ‘Watching television,’ replied Digby. ‘Like she said.’

  ‘You weren’t home. She could have easily snuck across and locked Gran out.’