Don't Let Me Forget

by Belinda Williams

Juliet hesitated and glanced towards the source of the pumping bass line. With a sigh, she walked in the direction of the noise, which was muffled by a door on her far left. She wasn’t sure why she was bothering. While it was her standard practice to personally farewell the party’s host before leaving at the end of an event, something told her that Alex probably wouldn’t notice if she slipped away. Still, she hadn’t built one of the country’s best event businesses by being lazy.

  The deep bass muted the sharp sound of her heels on the marble foyer as she approached the door. Pausing, she debated whether to knock or just walk in.

  She knocked loudly a few times. When there was no answer, she pushed the door open. Juliet blinked and covered her mouth instinctively when a cloud of cigarette smoke wafted her way.

  The room was dark as well as smoky. Squinting, she made out the rectangular shadow of a spa and half submerged bodies at the far side of the room. Naked bodies, she realised. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she was able to see exactly what those dark bodies were doing. In her surprise, Juliet inhaled a mouthful of smoke and started coughing. She backed out of the room. She was no prude, but she had no intention of breaking that sort of party up.

  God, so much for her perfectly respectable event. It was no surprise to Juliet that Alex was continuing the celebrations with a few of his close friends. She had underestimated Alex’s playboy eccentricities, though. The sooner she got out of here, the better. Juliet didn’t want her company’s name—or God forbid, the Temple name—connected to this sort of behaviour. She had no idea if the people in the spa room were all guests or had been hired for recreational purposes, but she didn’t pause to think about it.

  Juliet took the stairs two at a time, ignoring her protesting feet.

  ‘Leaving so soon?’

  Juliet stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs, the polished marble making a light squealing sound beneath her heels. Alex leaned against the wall languidly, with what Juliet considered an indecent smile on his face. Away from the party celebrations, his black tuxedo seemed out of place and it looked more like a costume for a part he was playing.

  ‘Yes, I’m all done, so I’ll say goodbye,’ she replied lightly. ‘Enjoy the rest of your night.’ Juliet gave him a bright smile—she couldn’t care less if it appeared fake, she was just eager to get out of there. She started to walk past him, but stiffened when he grabbed her by the arm.

  ‘You had a drink, after all.’ His smile was friendly, but there was something dangerous in his dark eyes.

  ‘It was lovely, thank you.’ She went to pull her arm away, then winced when his fingers dug into her skin. Her heart pounding, Juliet forced herself not to resist his grip. She glanced over at him and felt sick. He was drunk. Very drunk. And now he was leering at her. ‘Alex,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re drunk.’

  ‘So are you.’ His fingernails were leaving an impression in her arm.

  Juliet swallowed. He was so drunk he had no idea what he was talking about. ‘I’m fine, but I need to go home.’

  He released her arm with an odd smile. ‘Are you sure? You don’t look very well.’

  ‘Goodnight, Alex.’

  Juliet turned and made her way down an endless hallway, which she knew led back to the front door. Talk about pot calling the kettle, Juliet thought. Alex was in no condition to make judgements about her appearance, although it secretly upset her that she looked bad enough for him to comment on it.

  Halfway up the hall, Juliet stumbled and caught herself by placing a hand on the wall. Her vision clouded momentarily while she fought back a wave of dizziness. She really hadn’t eaten enough and she was very tired. Juliet continued walking, more slowly this time. At the end of the hall she reached out to steady herself again. She felt sick, and a wave of nausea pushed a mouthful of bile up her windpipe. Juliet scowled in distaste. She needed to get home.

  ‘Not feeling very well?’

  Juliet started at the sound of Alex’s voice. He was standing casually in the foyer and for a moment she wondered if she was hallucinating. She’d only left him moments ago at the top of stairs.

  Juliet squinted at him, the bright overhead lights hurting her eyes. ‘I really need to go home.’

  Alex came up beside her and slipped an arm through hers. ‘I’ll have someone take you home. You’re in no condition to drive.’

  ‘No,’ Juliet breathed, because the room had started to spin. Without meaning to, she leaned into Alex’s side to keep herself upright.

  Alex turned her away from the front door gently. ‘On second thoughts, you’ll be safer here. I’ll find you somewhere to lie down until you feel better.’

  Juliet wanted to protest. She opened her mouth to do so but all that come out was an unintelligible moan. What was happening?

  ‘You really have overdone it,’ Alex commented, as if they were having a normal discussion and she wasn’t about to pass out. He continued to lead her back down the hallway. ‘Not good practice for the party organiser, but I’m hardly one to judge.’ He bent down and whispered in her ear. ‘I promise I won’t say anything.’

  Juliet couldn’t even nod. She was finding it hard to focus as a bone deep exhaustion settled over her. She desperately wanted to close her eyes but somehow managed to fight it.

  ‘Here you go.’

  Alex opened a door at the far end of the hallway, or at least she thought that’s where they were—she couldn’t remember getting there.

  He led her into a dimly lit room and eased her onto a leather lounge. Juliet slid onto her side without consciously deciding to and closed her eyes.

  ‘You’ll be safe here,’ Alex said softly.

  She thought she heard his footsteps leave the room and the door click closed, but it was hard to tell because even with her eyes closed the room seemed to be spinning. She wasn’t sure how long she lay like that.

  When she heard the door open again, she didn’t move because she was unable to.

  ‘Watch her.’

  It took Juliet several moments to realise Alex wasn’t talking to her. Juliet sensed movement behind her closed eyelids and thought she heard the door click closed again.

  Distantly, Juliet understood the exhaustion was about to claim her. With one last burst of willpower, Juliet opened her eyes again for a second.

  One second was enough.

  She saw the girl—because that’s what she was, barely thirteen or fourteen—sitting in a chair, watching her from across the room. She was Asian and very beautiful. The girl’s eyes met hers. A rounded, haunting brown that somehow appeared older than her appearance.

  Even through the fog clouding her brain, Juliet recognised something wasn’t right. What was a girl this age doing here in the middle of the night? She didn’t have the strength to contemplate it further.

  Juliet closed her eyes again and gave in to the darkness.

  Chapter Three

  One month later

  Juliet sucked in a sharp breath as she watched the black BMW approaching in the rear-view mirror. It was moving at an impressive speed. Heart pounding, she flicked on her left-hand indicator and directed her car into an available gap in the other lane.

  Just like before ...

  The dignified roar of the BMW’s engine bid her goodbye as it sped past.

  Juliet blew out a long breath. She needed to get a grip.

  Unfortunately, that was something she’d been unable to do for the past month. Ever since the night of Alex Benedetti’s party.

  Juliet resisted the urge to close her eyes because she needed to keep them on the road. She refused to relive the memories of that night again. Lord knows, she’d done that enough these past few weeks. She could just make out the green and white sign looming up ahead. That must be her exit. Only about forty kilometres to go.

  She flicked on her indicator again and took the exit from the freeway.

  In about half an hour she would arrive at her new job as an events manager for a prestigious boutique winery in Australia’s
Hunter Valley wine region. Never mind that less than a month ago she had no intention of looking for a new job or leaving her business. Or that less than a month ago she’d still believed the Temple name could protect her from anything.

  She’d been wrong.

  Juliet glanced at the contents on her back seat. She’d piled her bags haphazardly, and there was more of the same in the boot. When she’d left at four this morning, she’d been in a hurry. As if she didn’t quite trust her decision to go, she’d thrown a scant selection of her belongings into the hire car. She hadn’t looked back. She could envisage her harbourside apartment the way she’d left it. Lived-in and with very little sign that the apartment’s owner had fled the city. But then that had been the idea. If it looked like she still lived there, it would be a while before people figured out she’d gone.

  Juliet sighed and ran a hand through her mess of light brown hair. She hadn’t even showered before leaving. It was hardly the first impression she was aiming for. Fortunately, the owner of the winery was aware of the situation and she hoped he’d be forgiving of her less-than-perfect appearance.

  Juliet made the rest of the journey in silence. Earlier, she’d attempted to lift her mood by filling the cabin with loud music, but she’d switched it off almost straight away. Whenever she heard a steady beat, it reminded her of that night and the music playing in the background when Alex had led her down the hallway …

  ‘Enough,’ she said out loud. By the time she arrived she would be one hundred and fifty kilometres from Sydney. No one knew where she was going, not Andrew, not even Edie. She couldn’t care less about offending Andrew, but the distance from Edie was going to hurt.

  It’s not forever.

  That’s what the Police Commissioner had said. Just until they could make further progress on the investigation and Juliet could walk around the city without a horde of photographers chasing her.

  Or random cars trying to run her down.

  ‘Oh God,’ she whispered, the sting of tears in the corner of her eyes.

  What happened the night of the party had felt like a bad dream until the hit-and-run car accident. Jet had been driving to work like any other morning, but on this particular day she was up earlier than usual, planning to arrive well before anyone else to prep for a client meeting. She’d been glad of the extra work to keep her mind off recent events. Ever since the night of the party, she hadn’t felt like herself and work was something that was certain and familiar.

  The sun had been in her eyes. The penetrating rays were so much brighter than any sunrise she could remember from her childhood growing up in the UK.

  She’d been squinting as she approached the intersection, making sure she hadn’t missed seeing any pedestrians and double-checking the light was green before proceeding further.

  She’d felt safe entering the intersection. Assured of her driving and where she was going.

  In a split second, that illusion was shattered when in a flash of silver, a vehicle hurtled towards the driver’s side of her car.

  Juliet didn’t have time to hit the brake. She didn’t have time to do anything except think, Oh no.

  There was an anguished screech of metal on metal, which Jet discovered was a sickening, twisting sound—the sort of noise you hear in nightmares and not in real life.

  The silver car made impact with the front side of her car and Jet’s head jolted painfully like a jack-in-the-box popping up. The airbag went off and surrounded her in a cloud of white so she couldn’t see. Juliet was powerless to do anything as her car was pushed across the intersection.

  And then, once she’d finally stopped and blinked several times only to realise the passenger side of her car was dangerously close to a power pole, the roar of an engine had reverberated through her. Still unable to see properly, Juliet sensed, rather than saw, the car that had hit her drive off.

  In that instant, teetering between gut-wrenching fear and relief that she was still alive, Juliet accepted that what had happened the night of the party hadn’t been a bad dream at all. Maybe this accident was nothing more than a coincidence, but the alternative ... It was far more sinister than Juliet wanted to contemplate.

  It was this very possibility the police were considering right now on her behalf.

  Juliet drew in a shaky breath. The car accident had only happened yesterday and she was still shaken from its after-effects. The conversation with the Police Commissioner remained fresh in her mind.

  It will be safer if you’re out of sight until we can progress further with the investigation and determine the extent of the danger you’re in, the Police Commissioner had told her. But he’d left it up to her. It was her choice, he’d said, but his personal recommendation was that she disappear from public life for a period of time.

  Nothing about this felt like her choice, though. Not packing her bags hurriedly in the pre-dawn light. Not leaving her life and business behind no matter how temporary. It felt like she was suddenly adrift in an unchartered ocean and she didn’t even have an oar to direct her journey.

  When she’d arrived in Sydney five years earlier, a young British backpacker enchanted by the expanse of azure harbour and endless blue sky, she’d never anticipated this was where her life would end up.

  For the first time since then, Juliet longed for England. Not because it was home anymore, but because it was the other side of the world away from the disaster that was her life.

  The dawn outside her window was giving way to a brilliant new day. Juliet searched in the glovebox for her sunglasses, careful not to take her eyes from the road. Since leaving the freeway, the road had narrowed from a dual lane carriageway into a single lane either way. Rows of towering gum trees gave way to farmland. The open space should have felt like a welcome release after the city, but instead it made Juliet feel vulnerable.

  Not much longer. She spent the next ten minutes navigating her way through the outskirts of the township of Cessnock. She passed row after row of weatherboard cottages, reminiscent of the town’s working class beginnings. An original two-storey pub with a wrap around verandah was nestled next to the train line. In her backpacking days she would have gone in and attempted to experience the town like a local.

  On the other side of town the countryside opened up again. Juliet started to see rows of vines and elaborate signage inviting visitors to cellar door tastings. Wine country.

  In her time planning events, she’d grown to appreciate the importance of wine in hosting a successful event. Until now, she’d never really put much thought to the producers of those wines.

  The GPS informed Juliet to turn left one hundred metres up ahead. She slowed the car and took the turn into a road that looked so tight it would barely hold two cars coming in opposite directions. At this time of the morning she hoped to avoid that situation.

  The road was flanked by a grass embankment on her right and a thick wall of gum trees to her left. Slowly, she climbed a gentle hill and, as she rounded a bend, the gum trees thinned out. Juliet gasped.

  An estate lay before her. Behind a rustic wooden fence, row after row of vines looked as though they’d been neatly arranged to perfectly compliment the backdrop of rolling hills in the distance.

  Juliet slowed in front of a wide driveway. A simple white sign with gold lettering read, ‘Rhodes Family Wines’. Above the words, an abstract logo in dark green hinted artistically at the rolling hills in the distance.

  Juliet directed the car along the white gravel driveway bordered by more gum trees. The road curved to the right and as the estate came into view, Juliet resisted the urge to step on the brakes.

  It was beautiful. A large building that reminded her of the barn-style conversions in the UK greeted her. It was simple, but she wouldn’t dare call it plain. The wood used to construct the barn was characterful and full of warm browns and red hues. Hedges had been encouraged to grow around it and climbers clung to the walls.

  Beyond the barn, and behind more gardens, Juliet could make out
two houses. One appeared to be a sprawling pale blue, single-level weatherboard with a verandah wrapping around. The other was a small off-white, two-level cottage, set at the edge of the main property. Hanging baskets overflowing with blooms and more hedges had been thoughtfully allowed to grow. Juliet felt an immediate sense of welcome, which was no easy feat given her state of mind.

  Juliet pulled up in front of the barn and cut the engine. It was barely seven in the morning and she suddenly felt the urge to start the car again and turn around. Instead, she sat in the car wondering what her next move should be. It was too early for the cellar door to be open. She’d been told not to use her mobile phone, so she’d left it in her apartment in Sydney.

  Resigned, Juliet blew out a long breath and then got out of the car. The spring morning was crisp, but the warmth of the sun on her back held the promise of a mild day.

  ‘A bit early for a wine tasting, isn’t it?’

  Juliet spun around at the sound of a deep male voice. A man in his late fifties stood near the entrance to the barn observing her. His greying hair was cropped short and the olive tone of his skin hinted at plenty of time in the sun. He was tall and Juliet would have called him sturdy if there hadn’t been such a strong sense of refinement about him.

  He broke into warm smile. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’

  Juliet frowned, feeling ill at ease despite his friendly greeting.

  ‘Gordon called ahead.’

  Relief flooded her body. Of course, Commissioner Roberts. She’d sent him the text message they’d agreed on before she left.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Juliet forced herself to smile. ‘I was in such a rush to leave, I didn’t know how I should get in contact ...’

  ‘Gordon took care of it.’

  He took a step closer and Juliet had the distinct impression she was being assessed. She was used to being in the public eye, but this was different. Juliet had the odd sense this man could see more than she cared to admit.

  He extended a hand. ‘Martin Rhodes. Owner of Rhodes Family Wines and your new employer, if you still agree to it after I show you around.’