Paul may have sounded dismissive, which he probably was, but he had been driven to the breaking point by Kaz during their recent financial crisis, and as far as he was concerned she had proved to be a waste of space. So after years of frustration and lack of communication Paul up and left. With no discussion or plea bargaining. He just packed a suitcase one day and went without so much as a parting kiss for his wife.
Gone.
Not that there was any real animosity on his behalf. Paul just didn’t want to share the second part of his life with Kaz if she continued to hold the same selfish attitude she had displayed over the past few months.
“Yes, I do love you,” Paul told Kaz rather bluntly just before he walked out, “but not in that ‘I want to be with you’ way. So I’m leaving for a while.”
But to avoid his departure turning into an acrimonious split, Paul left Kaz with total access to all their bank accounts, including her platinum credit card. She certainly wouldn’t find herself short of a dollar or starving and on the streets. It was just that Kaz would have to enjoy what was left of their wealth by herself for a while.
Paul had other priorities.
“Hopefully my departure will force the issue and bring you to your senses,” Paul would have liked to have added, but instead he kept to himself as he closed the door on their apartment for the last time, suitcase in hand, and made his way to his new abode.
And what do you do when your husband up and walks out? Kaz turned to her girlfriends. Yes, she was devastated and it hit her from left field like a blow from an assassin’s bullet, but in her mind’s eye she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Kaz had opened her front door and looked at Paul’s back for the last time and said, “Paul, I’ve been nothing but the supportive wife. I’ve always been there for you. Why didn’t you speak to me?”
But Paul had switched off.
Kaz just assumed it was the pressure of the Carlton collapse that had pushed Paul over the edge. Maybe that doctor was right, Kaz thought to herself. He must be suffering from depression after all.
But Paul just kept walking, not even bothering to look back or leave without so much as a kiss goodbye.
“You’ll be back with your tail between your legs once you come to your senses,” Kaz said as a parting comment, but it fell on deaf ears.
She just didn’t get it.
“And that’s the story of how it happened, Jools. Word for word,” said Kaz, as she took a large slug of red from the glass in front of her. Kaz was getting drunk, confused, emotional. Basically she was a mess. There had been so many negatives running through her head over the last few months, but Paul’s departure from her life bowled her over like a Mack truck hitting her unawares from behind. It was totally unexpected, and Kaz was having major problems rationalizing it to herself.
“I mean Jools, how could Paul just up and leave like that? No warning, no nothing,” Kaz added. “God, why can’t it have been for another woman? At least then I’d understand. But to just up and go, with no excuse.”
Jools had recognized that Kaz was having a hard time and had suggested they catch up for a bite to eat. Kaz jumped at the offer and they ended up on neutral ground at an Italian trattoria in Albert Park. The theme for the night was Tuscan food, so they shared a degustation seven-course menu, washing it all down with copious amounts of Chianti.
Certainly enough to loosen Kaz’s lips and allow her to vent her frustrations.
“You’re possibly right of course, Jools. That’s the only thing I can think of. Maybe I was a bit hard on Paul.” Kaz was rambling. “But he deserved it. And then he went and did an about-face on me.”
A solitary tear rolled down Kaz’s cheek and left its mark on the white tablecloth, looking like a calling card from the heart, thought Jools. She wondered whether it was a tear of loneliness and fear, or more a tear of frustration and disappointment. Or maybe both?
“At least we came out of this whole debacle at Carlton with our guarantees rescinded. Didn’t see any money though. That’s all gone. At one stage there I was starting to side with Paul and thought that we were about to lose the lot, including all our properties. Everything we’d worked for all our lives.”
Jools picked up immediately that Kaz was still talking with the collective”we.” As far as Kaz was concerned, Paul’s departure was just a rather belated midlife crisis that he was apparently going through. Speaking in the singular was just too final.
“When Paul gets over his hissy fit he’ll come running home, won’t he, Jools?” Kaz paused for a reflective moment, dabbing her moist eyes with the edge of her napkin, not really expecting an answer.
“But even so,” Kaz continued, “I’ll never forgive Paul for putting us in such a precarious financial situation. Jools, I hate to say it, but somewhere along the line Paul lost the plot. I mean at one stage there he even suggested that I may have to actually go back to work! Can you believe it? Ludicrous. And at my age. Doesn’t he realize that even though I haven’t had a job as Paul would like to say, I’ve sweated my guts out to keep the house, bring up the kids, and look after him. He never appreciates any of that. All Paul thinks I do is have endless lunches with the girls.”
“Well, you do have a bit of history there, Kaz. You must do more lunches than all of us combined.”
Kaz was taken aback.
“Oh how ridiculous. Everybody does lunch.”
“Ah Kaz,” replied Jools. “I have a naturopathic practice that I work in three or four days a week,” said Jools, “so count me out on that one.”
She still just doesn’t get it, thought Jools.
“Kaz, do you mind if I say something? And please don’t think I’m being bitchy. But you need to take a look at life through different eyes. Find a view that is less about yourself and more about Paul and you as a couple. I really know you’re not going to like to hear this, but I think one of the reasons Paul left you is because you never allowed him any quarter, any space to be able to express his feelings.”
Kaz didn’t think she was liking where this was heading.
“Remember all those times in your darkest moments when you were convinced that the Carlton project was about to implode, and you’d off-load to me about what you’d said to Paul? Well from what I remember, there wasn’t a whole lot of compassion and space in there for your partner.
“Kaz, have a think about it. Why do you think he came over to our place most Friday nights? Because, in his words, you wouldn’t listen to him. Paul was convinced that there was no point in speaking to you about his personal problems because you weren’t there in spirit for him to speak to.”
Kaz went totally silent and lost pallor, only half hearing what Jools was saying. Instead, she was replaying events in her head and was currently back in their apartment berating Paul for the umpteenth time.
“Kaz, I realize they’re really harsh words, but maybe there’s a modicum of truth in them,” said Jools, speaking from the heart. “I heard it from Paul, over and over again how he wished he could go home and not have to face World War III. He was convinced that was never going to happen, so instead he stayed away. And now unfortunately he’s taken it to the next level and moved out.”
Kaz picked up her napkin again, slowly threading her fingers along the stitched edge.
“Kaz, I’m only telling you this to help you come to grips with what’s gone on in your life. I care about you and Paul, and I want to see you get back together. Come and see me next week at the clinic if you like and we’ll talk some more.
“Now, time for a change of topic and something close to every girl’s heart. Dessert. What are you having? The tiramisu’s great. You’ll love it.”
“The forces that affect our lives, the influences that mould and shape us, are often like whispers in a distant room, teasingly indistinct, apprehended only with difficulty.” - Charles Dickens
“You know G, how they say there’s a silver lining inside every gray cloud?” Jools said pensively to her husband as the
y sat outside in their courtyard, enjoying the warmth of the late summer sun kissing their skin as it slowly descended on its journey to light another part of the world.
“I’ve just had flashbacks of when Rishi was taken away by the ambulance. That poor kid. His almost insouciant attitude to life is now one of his lasting legacies. He was so carefree and had such an infectious joie de vivre. He touched so many people, didn’t he.”
Jools was sad, but happy at the same time, letting her thoughts spill.
“Look at Cait and Dec. Like all of us, they were devastated by the shock of Rishi’s bashing and then his death. Plus there was Cait’s miscarriage. But now, well, they’ve taken it on board and grown. There’s no denying his death left a lasting, and I hasten to say, positive legacy. The kids’ll both still remember him for years to come, don’t you think G?”
“Especially Cait,” replied G. “She not only lost a soul mate and lover, but she grew up almost overnight.”
But Jools looked deeper than Cait just being forcefully pushed into adulthood. “G, the most amazing positive that’s come out of Rishi’s tragic demise is that Cait’s been touched by the Otherworld. She now knows its legacy. And she’s experienced the power of The Gift.”
“That’s Secret Women’s Business,” said G. “I’ll leave that one up to you and Cait to work out.”
“G, now that The Gift has revealed itself to her, there’s no going back. It’ll never leave her alone, you realize. What I have to help her with now is understanding what it’s like to live in two interconnected worlds, and how to harness the power of her dark secret.”
“As I said Jools, that’s your domain. I just live in the here and now.”
They both became introspective once more, listening to each other’s parallel thoughts as couples do when they have a lifetime of interconnectedness.
“Jools, you know we’ll all remember Rishi in our own way. Even if his memory fades like a withering summer flower, he’ll still be there. The sharp edges may disappear, but we’ll still have the lasting memory of his presence,” replied G sagaciously.
“Have you ever taken the time to look at the nexus of his bashing? The influences and downstream effects that it had on so many lives,” G continued, his mind wandering.
“Not just on our family, but on the kids’ friends, on Sean and Bec, Paul and Kaz, Steve and Jo . . . and then there’s Rishi’s family. The list goes on. It’s quite incredible actually if you think about it.”
“Yes G, you’re so right. It’s like the flap of a butterfly’s wing. I can actually see the reverberations clearly, even feel them. It’s as if I’ve got a 3-D road map in my head with all these interlinking threads of gossamer that are wiring everything together. It’s like a computer matrix.”
“I know what you’re saying Jools, I feel it too.”
The knock-on effect of Rishi’s death profoundly affected the lives of all who were touched by him, none more so than Cait. Her previous carefree, predictable, devil-may-care life changed forever. She grew up overnight and discovered secret powers that were bequeathed to her by her long line of Otherworld grandmothers—the power to read minds, to defy the very laws of nature, and change the world in front of her.
But Cait is way too pragmatic to actually believe that the paranormal world actually exists . . . or does it?
“Surely The Gift’s all make-believe. A figment of my imagination,” Cait would say to Jools whenever it was brought up. “What I experienced when I made contact with Rishi when he was in his coma in hospital was just coincidence . . . wasn’t it?”
But The Gift won’t leave Cait alone.
The second book in the series, The Mind Controller, picks up where Cait left off as she battles her demons and follows her dreams. Cait is traumatized when she is violently kidnapped and seriously injured by Rishi’s murderers, spiraling inward on a one-way path to an infinite black hole that appears to have no substance, only frightening dark space and hopelessness. She is haunted by terrifying, evil nightmares as the killers pursue her in her dreams.
But are Cait’s nighttime apparitions really nightmares, or are they a calling card from the Otherworld?
In Jools’s mind it’s The Gift, forcing itself into Cait’s consciousness with the power and insight of a thousand generations in her maternal line, screaming to be heard. But will Cait listen? To see justice done, not only for herself but more importantly for Rishi, Cait must first drag herself out of the depths of hopelessness and despair. Will she emerge unscathed? Will Cait succumb and transform into the ruthless femme fatale that she must first become so she can extract the ultimate payment from all who crossed her: Revenge?
To learn more about Cait’s exciting journey in The Mind Controller as she wanders between the corporeal world and the Otherworld, searching desperately for her abductors and Rishi’s murderers, click here and start reading today!
The Mind Controller - Book #1
Cait peered out from under the protective mantle of the shop front veranda and thought how crumpled and depressing everything seemed, the day weighed down by a master force of gloom and doom. In a glance, she took in the heavy, steely clouds casting a sad spell over everything; clouds pumped so full of moisture and hanging so low in the air she felt she could eat their contents. A damp mist, cold and lingering as surely as if it had been sent by the devil himself had settled on all things mortal, leaving evidence of its passing with waterdrops clinging to leaves and umbrellas and clothing and hair, with seemingly no discretion or choice.
Snuggling into the window seat at 21 Squares, Cait sank into the soft cushions and cast the sharpness of the day aside as she leaned against the rough brick wall, looking at a young couple and their boisterous labradoodle who were braving the elements outside under the protection of a large brown café umbrella.
A cold shiver invaded her warmth and Cait instinctively drew her woolen scarf tighter, tucking in her long fair hair and turning up the thick collar of her jacket as she curled up like a hibernating bear, enjoying the warmth of her own body heat.
Casting a cursory glance around at the other faces warming themselves over their coffee, Cait recognized some and gave a smile that was polite but suggested she didn’t want to talk. Then she turned her attention to the assortment of discarded newspapers and magazines lying haphazardly in the opposite corner from where she was sitting. Picking through the pile, she rescued a copy of last week’s Who magazine and flipped through its dog-eared pages.
The Celebrity Baby News section caught her eye. Hello, boring: Kim Kardashian is pregnant. Like, so what? She’s such a loser.
In fact, it was worse than boring. The gossip messed with her head, cutting through her thoughts as it sliced her open, as surely as if she was a slab of meat on a butcher’s block.
She quickly drew breath as a flood tide of painful memories gushed forth; the ones that were lingering, hiding menacingly in a dark corner of her mind, taunting her with their rawness, always there on the periphery of her consciousness.
“Rishi. I can’t believe you’re gone. Taken from me.” Cait spoke to herself, her thoughts on fire as they rushed around inside her head, creating havoc with a burning intensity that refused to lessen with the passing of time.
“Why did it have to happen to you?” she whispered, the wall behind her acting as her confidant, hearing everything but divulging nothing.
Bruising memories reverberated around Cait’s head like a never-ending echo in a dark cave.
“We should have had that child! And now you’re dead. Murdered by those thugs! You and I really could have been an item together . . .” Cait’s mind wandered, confused and hurting.
She closed and pushed the magazine away with a deliberate shove as if it was cursed, hiding the issue in the discard heap so it disappeared with all the other gossip rags that lay scattered on the cushions.
Looking up again, Cait tasted the air as the familiar, unmistakable smell of freshly ground coffee wafted her way, providing a welcome diver
sion. Kiwi Dave, barista extraordinaire, was stationed at his beloved espresso machine, treating it like a priceless antique, and Cait willed him to glance her way.
“Large cappuccino?” inquired Kiwi Dave, more with a raising of his eyebrows than with actual words, holding up an oversize cup.
“Yeah, sweet.” Cait mouthed her reply, accompanying it with a slight nod and a knowing smile.
Love that guy. He knows exactly where my head’s at.
No words had actually been uttered. It was more gestures and familiarity with her usual order. It was a millennial thing.
Cait looked away and glanced out the window again. The labradoodle was becoming restless as it pawed its master’s leg.
Where are you, Dec? Cait thought to herself as she searched for her brother among the heavily bundled-up passersby. As usual, he was late.
But what’s new about that? He’d miss his own funeral without a reminder in his phone.
As Cait stared vacantly across the road into a laundromat, watching a backpacker who was hovering around inside the shop somewhat nervously in a T-shirt and boxers as he was obviously waiting for his clothes to dry, a white, nondescript delivery van slowly cruised past. Cait thought it seemed oddly out of place, looking more like it was on the Saturday night circuit up and down party central on Fitzroy Street than on Blessington Street at two o’clock in the afternoon. But she paid it no mind, other than thinking that it somehow didn’t fit in with the soccer moms and minivans, the twentysomethings in their small compacts, and the newly licensed drivers in their dented shitheaps.
Then as quickly as the thought occurred, it escaped into the trivia trash can in her head.
“So, what’s new in your life, Cait?” Kiwi Dave liked her. It was as obvious as the multicolored tattoo of a rising sun on his forearm. He’d left his precious espresso machine to personally bring Cait her coffee.
It’s just soooo obvious he’s got the hots for me. Yuck! I’m just not into that hipster look. And he’s got too many tats . . .
The Cait Lennox Box Set Page 29
