‘I hope you don’t mind me ringing but Penny said you were in town and I was hoping you might be able to call in. I’m swamped here. There’s a lot to do and I’m minding my daughter’s baby at the same time this week, which is … well … demanding.’
‘Sorry, I came straight home.’
‘Oh, okay. Do you think you might be able to come in this week?’
‘I don’t think so, Abbie. I’m sorry I can’t …’ To her horror, tears began streaming down her cheeks. She sniffed hard and groped for a tissue.
‘Krista? Are you all right?’
‘I’m sorry … I’m … I don’t want to go out. Sorry.’
‘Don’t hang up, please,’ Abbie said quickly. ‘I’m sorry, I should have realised you’d be fragile at the moment. I don’t know if you know, but my daughter and I went through a bad situation a while back. Similar in a way to yours. We were held hostage. It was terrifying.’
‘I didn’t know.’ Oliver hadn’t said a word. No-one had.
‘Krista, if you would still like to help, how about I bring some of the smaller pieces out to you and you can work at home? There are shrubs and flowers and things like that to be painted. I can do the big backdrops here. I’d really appreciate it. Actually I’m a bit desperate. I have my own work to do too.’
‘Well … I’ve never done any painting.’
Abbie laughed. ‘Think back to primary school art. It’s like that. Nothing fancy. Paint between the lines is basically it.’
‘All right. I guess I could try.’
‘Great. How about I come out now? I’ll bring everything you’ll need.’
‘Oh. I don’t know …’
‘I’ll be there in about an hour. Wonderful! Thank you so much.’
Before Krista could object, she’d gone.
‘My God, Lola. I can’t do this. I’ll have to call her back.’
She took her coffee cup to the kitchen. What could she possibly say to put Abbie off? She’d promised to help and now Abbie was on her way, grateful to her for agreeing, bringing everything all the way out here. Did she know how disfigured Krista was? Had Penny told her? Yes, she would have. So Abbie would be prepared and be able to hide her shock.
‘I can’t face her,’ she said aloud. ‘I can’t.’
‘Who?’ Amy stood in the doorway. She bent to pat Lola.
‘Abbie. She wants me to help with painting sets and she just rang to say she’s bringing stuff out here so I can work at home. She’s coming now.’ The panic made her voice rise.
‘That’s good, isn’t it? It’ll give you something to do and you won’t have to go out.’
‘But she’ll see me.’
‘She’ll understand. What did the doctor say? I see he took the stiches out.’ She came closer and studied the scar. ‘It’s healing well.’
‘That’s what he said.’ Krista moved away from the scrutiny.
‘It won’t be like this forever. It’ll fade. No-one will notice it in a few months’ time.’
‘I will.’
‘Of course you will, but it won’t seem so important.’
Krista stared at her. Not important? How could she say that?
‘You’re still recovering from being kidnapped, remember. Give yourself a chance.’
‘That’s what Doc said.’
‘Maybe you should see someone. Talk about it.’
‘He gave me a phone number.’
‘Give them a call.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Do it. You can’t mope around here forever.’ Amy sighed and raised her hands in a gesture of defeat before letting them fall to her sides. ‘I’m sorry that sounded cruel … but literally, you can’t.’ Her eyes welled with unshed tears but she bit at her lip and said, ‘We’ve started looking for another position. Both of us will need jobs if we don’t find something similar to this, and you’ll have to leave too.’
‘It might take a while to sell.’ Panic bit into her with renewed energy. Leaving this haven was a reality she preferred not to face. Should she ask Hugh to reconsider the sale? Would he listen?
‘Hope so. We really like it here. The place has such potential.’ She sniffed hard.
‘Me too.’ And surprisingly that was true. She did like The Grange.
Amy’s mouth drooped and she wiped a hand across her eyes swiftly. ‘We really hoped we could buy it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Krista said helplessly. She had no idea what else to say; she’d never seen Amy anywhere close to crying, she was always so strong and reliable. But what could she do? Hugh wouldn’t budge on that price even if she did call him to plead their cause.
‘No, I’m sorry, Krista. It’s not your problem and you have enough to deal with. I shouldn’t have said that about you moping.’ Amy gave her a quick hug. ‘Give yourself plenty of time. You’re much better already.’
Krista spent the next hour in a fever of indecision. Should she phone Abbie and tell her not to come, she’d changed her mind, she wasn’t feeling well, she was going away?
Lie.
Or should she pretend she wasn’t home and not answer the door? Or ask Amy to meet her and take in the art supplies? Involving Amy wouldn’t work. She knew Krista was at home and would think a new friend was a good idea but Amy would never understand what it was like to lose her self-confidence. The doorbell took her by surprise. Lola yapped and ran to the front door, giving her usual deafening welcome to visitors. So much for pretending she wasn’t home. Abbie was early by at least ten minutes.
Krista stood by the door breathing hard, mind whirring but going nowhere. The bell rang again. Lola’s yapping increased.
‘Shush, Lola.’
She closed her eyes for a moment, opened them, grasped the handle and opened the door.
‘G’day.’
‘Oliver.’ Her legs shook and she had to lean against the doorframe for support. What was he doing here? Why didn’t he phone first? Her face … he couldn’t see her like this.
‘Rod called me out for one of the horses. Thought I’d drop in and see how you are.’
‘Uh … I’m …’
‘Had the stitches out.’ He studied her cheek. ‘It’s a lot better than when I saw it last.’
She couldn’t speak, she could barely stand. She wished he’d go. He shouldn’t have come at all. Not without telling her.
‘How are you?’ He touched her chin gently. ‘I’ve missed you.’
She wanted to lean into his hand. He was being nice. He always was.
‘I’m okay.’
She hadn’t returned his call. She’d listened and her heart had cried out for him but she couldn’t make the move to dial. Like now. Couldn’t move.
‘Angus stopped by on his way out the other day. He’s not so bad. A bit of an idiot but he has a good heart, I reckon. He cares about you.’ He looked her directly in the eye. ‘He said you’re staying here.’
She nodded. ‘Until Hugh sells it.’
‘Might take a while.’
Another nod.
‘I’m glad. I thought you might leave after what’s happened. Go somewhere less …’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Somewhere more civilised.’
‘No. I want privacy.’
‘Privacy?’ He frowned.
‘From people.’
‘Does that include me?’
She hesitated. ‘I don’t have anything you’d want.’
‘I don’t want anything from you.’
An unfamiliar white car slowed and parked. Oliver turned to look at it.
‘That’s Abbie,’ he said. His gaze returned to her.
‘Yes.’
He smiled but it was strained. ‘Good. I’ll leave you to it.’
Good what?
He strode down the steps and along the path. A red-haired woman was leaning into the rear of the car, unloading cardboard boxes on to the ground. She straightened and greeted Oliver. They were too far away for Krista to eavesdrop but they both turned and looked her way. Abbie waved. Krista
raised her hand in a feeble response. Her stomach churned.
Oliver stooped and picked up a box. She loaded another on top and he walked towards the house.
‘Where do you want this?’
She didn’t want this at all. ‘In the terrace room.’
‘Get out of the way, Lola, or I’ll tread on you,’ he said as he disappeared into the house with Lola dancing in front of him.
‘Hi, I’m Abbie. So nice to meet you at last.’
The woman, arms laden with flat sheets of plywood cut into odd shapes, stood on the doorstep. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and her skin was smooth and unblemished, with a few crinkles around her eyes. Happiness radiated from her.
‘Hello.’ Krista stepped aside, keeping her bad cheek hidden as much as possible. ‘Come in.’
‘Thanks, and thank you for helping. You’re a lifesaver. Where can I dump these? I’ve got my granddaughter in the car. She went to sleep on the way here but I can’t leave her out there. Too hot even though it looks like a storm coming. Rain at last, with any luck.’ A brilliant smile accompanied the barrage of words.
A baby? She was bringing a baby in? Why not the whole town?
‘Down here.’ Krista led the way to the terrace room, her stomach a lead weight.
‘What a fabulous house,’ Abbie said. ‘Goodness, is that a Fred Williams?’
She’d stopped outside the living room door to study a framed sketch.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Krista said. ‘If he’s a famous artist, I’d say so.’
‘He’s one of Australia’s best.’
Abbie stepped back, astonished. ‘It is. How wonderful. It’s lucky the house survived the fire. It’d be heartbreaking to lose it.’
‘I had no idea. Hugh didn’t say.’
‘I wonder what other treasures you have here.’
Oliver was on his way back. ‘Anything else?’
‘A few more of these in the boot, and the baby.’
‘You’d better fetch her.’ He grinned and Abbie laughed.
Krista waited uneasily on one of the cane chairs while Abbie and Oliver ferried the remaining supplies in. How carelessly Hugh treated a valuable possession. If it had burned, he’d claim the insurance and buy something else. For Abbie the value was in the art itself. Her wonder and delight said it all. Did Hugh value anything away from its monetary value?
Abbie reappeared with a plump baby in her arms, pink-faced and in a little white singlet with a teddy bear on the front. She held a floppy, grey toy elephant by its trunk and studied her surroundings through big blue eyes.
Oliver propped the last flat shapes against one of the chairs. ‘See you later, ladies,’ he said.
Krista stood up.
‘I know the way out, Krista,’ he said. ‘Take care.’ He looked at her blankly then away to Abbie and the baby.
‘Thanks, Ollie,’ Abbie said. ‘Wave to Ollie, darling.’
The baby stared at her, then at Oliver, who waved and headed for the door.
‘Oh look, a doggy,’ said Abbie. ‘See darling, a doggy.’
She squatted down so the baby was at Lola’s level. Lola’s tail wagged like a flag and she sniffed the newcomers with great interest.
The baby pointed and giggled when Lola licked her hand.
‘What’s its name?’ asked Abbie.
‘Lola.’
‘Lola, this is Charlotte.’
‘How old is she?’ Krista asked in an effort to appear interested. Babies were foreign objects to her.
‘Nine months.’
The baby gurgled and squirmed in Abbie’s arms, so she sat her down like a plump little Buddha while Lola examined her carefully.
Abbie stood up. ‘Now. Let me show you what we’re doing. Do you know Patience at all?’
‘No.’
‘I’ll send you the video link Gina sent so you can listen to it. It has two acts and both are outdoor settings. One is outside a castle, the other is in a glade. I’m painting a castle wall and trees for the first and statues and trees for the second. I’ve brought you the shrubs and flowers for the second because it’s really a garden. There’s a lot of dark green involved.’
She took one of the flats and held it so Krista could see the shape of a stylised rosebush outlined on a white background. ‘Georgia, my daughter, did the primer before our carpenter cut the shapes but she’s had to go to Melbourne for a week. She’s doing a master’s degree. All you need to do is paint the colour I’ve marked in the relevant area. Painting by numbers.’ She smiled. ‘There’s a list of the colours and numbers in one of the boxes with the paint and brushes. Not many. You won’t get them mixed up. I’ll leave the flower colours to you. Be creative. We have red, yellow and pink.’
It didn’t look impossible. Abbie was already lifting a tin from one of the boxes. ‘This is the basic green. It’s water soluble so you can wash the brushes easily. And yourself. You’ll need to wear old clothes and have a drop sheet for the floor if you work in here. An old bedsheet or an old shower curtain are good.’
Nothing old existed in this house, or any house Krista had ever lived in. Except antiques. But she nodded.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
‘Gosh, listen to that. It’s getting quite dark. I’d better get a move on,’ Abbie said. ‘If you run out of paint give me a call, but I think you should be all right. Use a screwdriver to get the lids off and make sure they’re on properly so the paint doesn’t dry out. Wash the brushes in the laundry tub with water and detergent after every session. Any questions?’
‘No.’
‘Great. If you do a few each day, it shouldn’t take too long. You could do all the green bits and then all the brown bits so it dries between colours. It’s up to you.’
‘How long have I got?’
‘The show opens on the first of June but we want this done by early May, I think, so we know what we’ve got and they can rehearse properly as the date approaches. I’ve never done stage sets before so I’ve given myself a lot of time. Something’s sure to go wrong when we start putting it all together.’
May. She had two months.
‘Hugh is selling this place,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to move when he does.’
‘That can take a long time, what with settlement and all that,’ Abbie said. ‘He’d be lucky to have a changeover by June unless he has someone already lined up. The block of land next door to me took over a year to sell and it’s closer to town than this. The house was old and rundown but the land is good farmland with river access.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
Thunder rumbled again. A prolonged growl, closer than the first.
‘Right. I’m off. Don’t want to be caught in it. Rupe said that bridge goes under sometimes in sudden downpours. We have a bridge near us too. Water comes down from the mountains really fast.’
‘I didn’t know.’
Abbie scooped Charlotte up, ignoring the squeal of protest. Lola yapped and the baby stopped complaining to giggle. ‘If it’s not one thing it’s another out here. Extreme heat, fires, floods, storms, dust. You name it we get it.’
Krista managed a little smile. ‘Thank you for coming, Abbie.’
‘No worries. Thank you for volunteering.’ Her brilliant smile appeared. ‘We’ll find more for you to do, you know, now that you’re on the radar.’
‘I’m not sure …’ Krista stopped.
Suddenly the smile faded. ‘It seems overwhelming, doesn’t it? I know how you feel. I lost almost everything and I had to start again. Twice really. The first was after I divorced my first husband.’
‘Oh.’
‘Rupe was my rock and so were the people I met here in town. They amazed me with their kindness. You’re not alone, Krista.’
‘I’m not a local, you are. It’s different.’
Abbie shook her head. ‘I’d only been here about a year. Less.’
A flash of lightning lit the room, followed by more growling and grumbling. Abbie heade
d for the front door. Krista followed.
‘Gosh, it’s dark,’ she said. The sky was completely covered by roiling grey clouds. The wind had picked up again, blowing dust and dancing leaves across the gravel parking area.
‘Thanks, Krista. See you later.’ Abbie hurried to her car and strapped the baby into the rear seat. She shut the door and gave a quick wave before running to the driver’s door.
Krista, with Lola at her feet, watched the car disappear down the drive. A crash of thunder right overhead made Lola whimper and run for the house. Krista gave an involuntary shiver. The temperature had plummeted. More lightning seared the gloom. She turned and ran after Lola.
Inside, she stood in the terrace room and surveyed the boxes and stacks of plywood flats with growing dismay. Why did she agree to this? She’d never get it all done and she’d ruin the show and upset Abbie, who was a lovely person. No wonder she’d landed that handsome policeman. How could any man resist such a beautiful, intelligent, charismatic and talented woman?
Abbie had instantly recognised that drawing as by a famous Australian artist Krista hadn’t even heard of. She’d drunk champagne at gallery openings and gala events at museums but had no clue as to what was actually in those places. She should know cultural things like that but she didn’t. She knew how to dress well and make small talk and which restaurants were in. None of that mattered in Taylor’s Bend. None of that mattered in her new life.
The rain drummed down outside in a sudden onslaught so heavy the terrace and garden disappeared behind a thick wall of grey. More thunder cracked, this time directly over the house. Lola scrambled close to Krista, pressing against her legs, shaking and whimpering. Krista picked her up and cuddled her, staring out at the impenetrable mass of water.
‘I hope Abbie made it past the bridge,’ she said to Lola. She’d only been gone about five minutes but she could beat the storm if it was travelling in a different direction, and the river couldn’t have risen that fast. Still holding Lola, she went upstairs to look out the windows with a view towards the town. No different. Rain pelted down and the sky was invisible. From here, the driveway was just discernible by the rows of trees thrashing in the wind.
What if a branch came down and Abbie and the baby were trapped along the road? Or if the car was hit by a falling tree like Rod had been? Her breath tightened in her chest and as if she’d conjured the reality from her thoughts, a tree at the end of the drive closest to the house crashed down in a swirl of leaves and tortured branches, crushing the fence, its roots rising in a dark and threatening mass.
Where There Is Smoke Page 26
