In between poking at the bacon, she made a pot of tea and fixed more toast with effortless efficiency. She placed a heaped plate in front of Krista. Two fried eggs and a couple of rashers of bacon all sitting on lavishly buttered toast. Cholesterol hotel.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, love.’ Margie went down the hallway to the bathroom door and yelled, ‘Are you okay in there. Need some help with your pants?’ She turned and grinned at Krista’s astonishment.
Oliver’s reply was muffled but clearly negative because Margie came back to the kitchen.
‘I’ve got three boys who play footie and a husband,’ she said. ‘One or other of them has always broken something or hurt themselves. I’ve seen it all.’
‘I offered to help him take his shirt off but he refused.’
Margie gave a burst of raucous laughter. ‘He’s a bit shy.’
Krista tried a mouthful of toast and egg. Her stomach gurgled in anticipation and her tastebuds danced with glee at the onslaught of eggy fat. Once wouldn’t hurt.
‘I didn’t realise how hungry I was.’ Next came bacon followed by a slurp of tea. Then more egg, more toast. Delicious.
A door opened and another closed.
‘He’s made it through the shower.’ said Margie, and cracked two more eggs into the sizzling pan.
Oliver came in, fresh and clean, newly shaved and smelling of soap, his arm in the sling. ‘That smells fantastic. Thanks, Margie.’
‘No worries. Sandy’s coming over to take care of the horses.’
‘Good idea.’
His eyes rested on Krista for a moment, soft, smiling, making her skin prickle with heat and shattering her composure.
‘Do you have Rod’s number?’ she asked.
‘Yep. We can give him a call after breakfast.’
‘How’s your arm?’
‘Sore but I can use my fingers a bit so I’ll manage.’
She nodded, incapable of coming up with anything intelligent to say. He was too close and too … desirable. Was she in danger of becoming another Penny? Was she falling for this man simply because he was nice to her? How pathetically needy was that? She’d known him less than a week, for goodness sake, and her real life was in Melbourne. All this was an aberration. She could leave any time she wanted now that the horses were safe and Rod and Amy were coming to take charge.
Except for damned Angus and her keys. Where would they be delivered now? Not that it mattered. But Mel had a key and she could contact her through the agency. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?
‘What will happen to The Grange mail?’ she asked.
‘The mail?’ Oliver shrugged. ‘No idea. They’d hold it at the local post office I suppose.’
‘Here?’
‘Jindalee, I’d say,’ said Margie. ‘That’s closest to them. You expecting something?’ She served Oliver a heaped plate, sat down and poured herself a cup of tea.
‘The keys to my apartment.’
‘Jindalee’s closed off,’ said Oliver. ‘Are you in a hurry to leave?’ He sounded disappointed. Was he?
‘There’s no reason for me to stay once Rod turns up and I talk to Hugh.’
‘Might be a while before you track down the keys.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘I remembered my cleaner has a key.’
‘Right. Your cleaner.’
‘Wish I had a cleaner,’ said Margie.
‘A cleaner’s the last thing I’d spend money on,’ said Oliver.
‘You don’t have three boys and a husband,’ said Margie.
He smiled. ‘That’s true.’ But he glanced at her as if to say ‘But neither does Krista’.
‘If I could afford one I’d get one, believe me,’ said Margie. ‘Even if I did live by myself.’
Krista concentrated on mopping up egg yolk with her last piece of toast. Again she didn’t know what to say. How could she defend herself against the implication she had too much money? She did. She had Mel come in because she hated cleaning and she could afford not to do it herself. Was that wrong? Oliver seemed to think so. How strongly did he feel about it? How spiky was this exchange going to get? Hugh and her mother would be at each other’s throats on a topic like this. She put her knife and fork neatly together on her plate and took it to the sink.
‘Take no notice of him,’ said Margie. ‘If he enjoys cleaning the toilet so much he can come and do mine.’
Krista smiled warily and slid a glance at Oliver who was grinning as he shovelled in bacon. She sat down. Thank God the conversation hadn’t escalated the way most of Mama’s and Hugh’s did.
Chapter 13
Rod and Amy arrived later that afternoon with Rod clumping along on crutches, his leg in a cast. They both thanked Oliver profusely for taking them in and for saving the precious photo album and files.
‘The car’s insured,’ Amy said when Krista apologised for leaving it behind. ‘You couldn’t do much else. You saved the horses and yourselves, that’s much more important.’
‘Hugh’s been on the phone,’ said Rod after they’d settled into their room with what meagre possessions they had, and rejoined Oliver and Krista in the kitchen for a cold beer. ‘He’s going to sell The Grange.’
‘Is he? Why?’ asked Oliver.
‘He’s a businessman. He’s good at cutting his losses,’ said Krista. ‘He’s lost interest in being a rural gentleman, Angus was hopeless at running the place, the bushfire has caused big problems he doesn’t want and he’ll be concentrating on Viivi and what to do about the marriage.’ She shrugged. ‘He doesn’t mess around with lost causes.’
He’d been furious when she reported in that she and Oliver had been attacked. ‘Leave it with me,’ he said, which was what he’d said before. But he hadn’t mentioned selling The Grange. Maybe her phone call was the final straw.
‘What will you two do if he sells?’ asked Oliver.
‘See what happens. It depends if the place is still standing. If the house has gone it’ll be a land sale. If it survives –who knows? A new owner can do anything or nothing with it,’ Rod said.
Amy leaned forward, pushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. ‘We’d really like to buy it and run it properly as a stud farm.’
‘Might be a good time,’ said Oliver. ‘Get in while the price is down. People will be reluctant to invest out here for a while.’
‘That’s what we thought.’ She glanced at Rod. ‘Our parents would help us.’
He nodded. ‘My family are all into horses.’
‘Good luck with it,’ said Oliver.
Krista and Amy dropped Rod at the showground to meet Sandy and check on the horses then went to the supermarket for supplies.
‘What’s been going on with Hugh and your mother?’ Amy asked when they were alone in the car. ‘Roddy was very sketchy with details.’
‘They had a massive fight at the party. At dinner in front of all the guests. Mama slapped his face and stormed off. She’s accused Hugh of having an affair.’
‘Was he?’
‘Probably.’
‘That’s sad.’
Krista glanced at her, surprised. No-one had said that before. People usually launched into an opinion of the marriage or who was at fault.
Amy said, ‘I always think divorces are sad. People don’t go into a marriage thinking of splitting up.’
‘I suppose not. Although Mama has had plenty. You’d think she’d be a bit wary by now. Or smarter.’
‘The triumph of hope over experience.’ Amy sighed. ‘How about you? Are you okay? You’ve had a rough time of it.’
‘Thanks … it was a shock when it happened. I knew they’d been fighting a lot but I didn’t expect her to leave like that. I’ve never seen her so upset.’
‘Do you think they’ll sort it out?’
‘I doubt it. Mama’s not a forgiving person.’
‘That bruise looks painful.’
Krista touched her cheek lightly. She’d covere
d it as much as possible with foundation but the darkening colour and the swelling was difficult to hide completely. ‘It’s not too bad. Oliver was hurt much worse. I feel so guilty. It’s all my fault he got involved.’
‘He doesn’t seem to mind. I mean, he obviously minds being injured and not being able to work, but he didn’t need to be involved if he hadn’t wanted to be. Not with the horse affair and those two bully boys. Anyway, that’s all Angus’s fault, not yours.’
‘I bet he does mind! He’s just too nice to say so.’
‘He is a very nice man, isn’t he? Good looking too. Quite the catch.’ Amy smiled but it had a subtly suggestive edge to it and chimed exactly with her own thoughts, a fact which Krista tried to ignore.
‘Sandy told me he’s Taylor’s Bend’s most eligible bachelor since the policeman got married.’
‘I haven’t seen the cop but judging by the other blokes I’ve seen around town, I’m sure he is.’
‘The Doc’s receptionist is a big fan of his. She was very prickly when I walked in with him.’ Krista snickered. ‘When I told him what Sandy said, he was embarrassed. Most of the guys I know would boast about it.’
‘It’s different in the country.’
‘I’m beginning to see that.’
‘Roddy and I couldn’t live in a city again.’ Amy swung the car into a parking spot at the supermarket.
‘I’m not sure I’d go that far,’ said Krista. ‘I have no idea what I’d do here. There’s only one dress shop and what about entertainment?’
‘There’s lots goes on in these places. Rod and I are just too tired at night to make the effort to go out.’
Amy got out of the car and took shopping bags from the back seat.
Krista said, as they walked to the sliding doors at the front of the supermarket, ‘Oliver told me they’re putting on a show in June. He plays the cello, of all things.’
‘Goodness, is there no end to his talents?’
‘Seems not. Someone called Abbie said I could help her with the sets if I wanted while I’m here.’
‘That sounds fun. I didn’t know about the show. I wonder if they need more people in the chorus.’
‘Come with me in the morning and meet her. I need to buy some clothes tomorrow too. I only brought a few things with me.’
‘How long are you staying?’
‘I thought until my keys arrived, but with the fire who knows when that will be? If Angus ever posted them. But I remembered my cleaner has a key so I can leave any time.’
‘So there’s no need to buy clothes,’ said Amy. She dragged a trolley from the row and set off down an aisle, list in hand.
Krista trailed after her. She was right. Not about buying clothes because she needed socks and sneakers, and clothes shopping was always a good idea, but the implication was why stay? The horses weren’t hers, apart from Calypso who’d always been cared for by The Grange staff.
A new question arose. What would happen if Hugh sold up? She’d have to sell Calypso or pay to board her somewhere, which seemed crazy when she didn’t ride. She really should be paying board for her at Oliver’s.
She’d made assumptions all her life based on her mother’s and, more recently, Hugh’s example—ask for help but don’t consider the cost to the giver. Amy wasn’t making that assumption because she was used to paying her way and counting pennies. She’d made it clear they were accepting the bed but not free board from Oliver by charging off to the supermarket for provisions. It hadn’t occurred to Krista at all.
The least she could do was pay for the food they were loading into the trolley. Rod wouldn’t be in his situation if she hadn’t roped him into finding Lola. The dog wasn’t his responsibility. All these people had suffered because of her and her family and their lack of consideration. Angus had started it but she’d continued with the wreckage. No wonder the locals viewed them with disdain.
Amy turned with a packet of cereal in her hand, glanced at Krista and said, ‘What’s up?’
‘All this is my fault. Rod’s leg, Oliver …’
‘You didn’t start the bushfire, did you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘And you don’t control the wind and the weather.’
‘But Lola wasn’t Rod’s responsibility. He was trying to get the horses ready and I nagged at him about her.’
‘So what? She’s not your dog either. He wouldn’t leave a dog to be burnt alive and if you’d said go without her it would have been the other way round. He’d have been insisting you find her first.’
Krista stared at her, wanting her words to be true. ‘But …’
‘Shut up and let’s get moving. Roddy and Oliver will want their dinner.’ She turned and continued on. ‘Go and find ice cream.’
In the face of such a thorough dismissal of her attempt to apologise, Krista did as she was told. Amy was a force to be reckoned with.
***
After dinner, news came through that the fire was under control and residents could return home in the morning to assess the damage to their properties.
‘They haven’t said anything about the extent of damage,’ said Amy.
‘They won’t have been able to cover every house yet if it wasn’t directly in the path of the fire,’ said Oliver.
‘So The Grange should be safe?’ said Krista.
‘With any luck.’ Rod smiled. ‘We’ll go out first thing and then come back for the horses if it’s okay to go home.’
‘I’ll come too.’ Krista looked at Oliver, who was holding an icepack against his swollen arm. ‘Can I leave Lola here, please?’
Lola, lounging on the floor by her feet, wagged her tail at the mention of her name.
‘Of course.’
‘She’s enjoying herself being a proper dog,’ said Rod.
‘She’s sure had some adventures lately.’ Krista stroked the silky head.
‘She’s not alone,’ said Amy. ‘I’m the only one in this crew who hasn’t been locked up, dehydrated, beaten up or squashed by something.’
‘How did you get hit by that tree, Rod? Calypso wasn’t hurt,’ Oliver said.
‘I went into the trees to have a look on foot and she took off. Spooked by the wind.’
‘If Hugh sells The Grange, I’ll have to decide if I want to keep her,’ said Krista.
‘Unless that Mafia type comes to claim her.’ Oliver grimaced. ‘The deadline has gone by.’
‘Do you think he’ll turn up again?’ Rod frowned. ‘At The Grange?’
‘If he does, or any of those men do, I’m calling the police,’ said Amy.
‘The police are already on the lookout for that red ute,’ said Oliver. ‘I doubt that pair will come back unless they’re much, much thicker than we think they are.’
‘When I told Hugh what had happened, he was furious,’ said Krista. ‘He’ll be talking to Stefan Moran about it.’
‘So much for “I’ll take care of it” and “don’t worry”.’
Krista glanced at Amy’s stern expression and clamped down on the desire to apologise yet again for causing such trouble.
‘I wonder if Angus will be game to show his face here again,’ she said instead.
‘If he has a suitcase of cash he’ll be welcome.’ Oliver gave a short laugh.
‘That’s not going to happen,’ said Rod.
‘Where do you think he is?’ asked Amy.
‘No idea,’ said Krista.
‘Probably in Vegas playing the poker machines,’ said Rod.
‘I think he’s a bit more high-stakes than that or we wouldn’t be in this mess.’ Krista exhaled and slumped deeper into the lounge chair. Oliver’s furniture was well worn and old-fashioned and far cosier and more comfortable than her modern designer-styled suite. Her apartment was toned in grey, black, silver and glass. Cold and unfriendly by comparison. Functional but unwelcoming.
Oliver’s phone rang, shattering the silence that followed her remark. Krista straightened as he answered. No way could he
go out on a call. Whoever it was would have to phone another vet. He’d have to put a message on his phone saying he was closed for business.
‘Hello?’
Frowning, he looked at Krista and mouthed, ‘It’s them.’
With a chill of fear working its way through her body, she moved close, trying to hear the caller.
‘Krista’s phone was smashed by one of your men when they came to beat us up this morning,’ he said.
Stefan Moran? Why was he phoning Oliver?
Oliver put his hand over the phone. ‘It’s that bloke Stefan Moran, the boss. He wants to speak to you.’
‘I’m calling the police,’ said Amy in a low voice. She got up and went into the kitchen.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Krista. ‘I’ll see what he wants first.’
Amy reappeared. Krista took the phone from Oliver as the fear turned into icy determination. Enough was enough.
‘Hello.’
‘Good evening, Krista, Stefan Moran speaking.’
‘Why did your men attack us this morning? The deadline was this evening.’
‘They acted without my knowledge,’ he said. ‘As you say, the deadline has passed and you have failed to honour your side of the deal.’
‘There was no deal, Mr Moran, and as far as I’m concerned I owe you nothing. Even if I did, the actions of your men negated any deadline or arrangement you might have made. The police have been informed of the attack and I fully intend to press charges when they are arrested. If you want to distance yourself from their actions, I suggest you leave me and Oliver Johnson alone.’
She disconnected and handed the phone back to Oliver.
‘Wow!’ Rod began applauding. ‘Go Krista. That’s telling him.’
‘Are you sure that was a good idea?’ asked Oliver.
‘No, but I suddenly got really pissed off with feeling like a victim when I haven’t done anything wrong. Men like him make me furious. He holds me accountable for Angus’s stuff-up, which I had absolutely nothing to do with, but takes no responsibility for what his men do in his name.’
‘Typical hypocrite,’ said Amy. ‘But he’s dangerous, isn’t he?’
Where There Is Smoke Page 19
