Don't Let Me Go (3 page)

What was it about Katie, Rick’s English fiancée, that she couldn’t quite warm to? Everyone else seemed to love her, and it wasn’t as if she’d ever done anything to make Charlotte dislike her. Actually, dislike was too strong a word; it was more that she found Katie’s manner slightly off-putting, even dismissive at times, as though she wasn’t too thrilled about Charlotte being there. Charlotte had never mentioned it to anyone, nor would she when the last thing she wanted was to cause trouble.

However, given the chat she’d had with Rick over a bottle and a half of wine at the bach last weekend when he’d come very close to confessing a truth Charlotte had already guessed at, Charlotte very much feared that trouble was closing in anyway, and there wasn’t going to be much either she or Katie could do to stop it.

Chapter Two

BY THE TIME
Bob carried a platter of sizzling crayfish from the monster barbecue to the candlelit table on the veranda, the kitchen and decks were crowded with guests. Though Charlotte had met most of them before, as always with her mother’s and Bob’s parties there were newcomers swelling the numbers and this evening’s contingent, the Bowlams, had arrived on a twin-masted yacht, currently anchored close by in the bay while their tender bobbed alongside Bob’s rigid inflatables at the end of the pier. Apparently the Bowlams were long-time friends from Russell, a pretty resort town on the island that sprawled across Te Puna’s horizon. Like everyone else they’d been totally charmed by the greeting they’d received from Chloe and Craig, who’d offered them fresh pipis from a basket while Danni had taken their order for drinks.

Shelley and Phil had long since arrived from the airport and were busily catching up with everyone while making sure the wine flowed, and Sarah, Anna’s oldest friend and Katie’s aunt, was at the oven checking the garlic and rosemary potatoes she had baking there. Anna herself was stirring lemon juice into the vermouth and tarragon sauce she’d whipped up for the crayfish, while Charlotte was tossing a salad in the balsamic dressing Katie had made.

The kitchen was vast, with a fourteen-seater wooden table down the middle, two ice-making fridges at one end and two entirely glass walls which, when open, as they were now, seemed to join the house to the sun-dappled bay.

‘Ready when you are in there,’ Bob shouted out.

‘Coming,’ Anna called back. ‘Where’s the tarragon I chopped . . . ? Ah,’ and grabbing a handful she sprinkled it over the sauce as she carried the pot to the table. With her fine blonde hair, twinkly eyes and girlish figure she appeared much younger than her fifty-one years, and might even, at a push, have passed for Charlotte’s sister. They really were very alike in looks, and during the short time they’d been getting to know one another they’d discovered, to their delight and occasional embarrassment, that they had many similar mannerisms too.

As for Bob, his thick silvery hair, cobalt-blue eyes and luminous smile that seemed etched into every line of his face made him an extremely handsome man who didn’t look his age of sixty either. Though Rick resembled his father quite closely, it was Shelley who was most like him. In fact she’d turned out to be far more glamorous on meeting than Charlotte had expected from the video footage she’d seen before coming here. She was taller and more shapely than the film had allowed, and her hair, which had been shoulder-length and mousy back then, was now a rich honey blonde and cut into an attractively wedged curly bob that Katie, the hairdresser amongst them, had created at her salon in town. Katie herself had spiked, platinum hair, soulful brown eyes and an exquisite heart-shaped mouth that even Charlotte found fascinating to watch.

‘How are the potatoes going in there?’ Anna called out to Sarah.

‘On their way,’ Sarah called back.

‘I’ll take the salad,’ Katie declared, and easing the bowl from Charlotte’s hands she turned and almost tripped over Chloe.

‘You’re in the way there, sweetie,’ she told her, irritation seeping through her smile.

Chloe immediately pressed in closer to Charlotte. ‘Nanna asked me to get the lemons,’ she said quietly.

Putting a hand on her head, Charlotte shouted, ‘Mum, what are the lemons for?’

‘The finger bowls,’ Anna shouted back. ‘They’re already quartered. Is the plate too big for Chloe?’

‘It’s OK, I can help her,’ Danni offered, skidding up alongside them.

‘I’m getting the apple juice,’ Craig announced on his way through to the fridge.

‘More wine?’ Phil held up two bottles, one of white, the other red.

‘White for me,’ Charlotte answered, searching for her glass.

‘House Pinot Gris,’ he told her, using the bottom of the bottle to scratch his balding head. His clean-shaven face was an endearing contradiction of studiousness and humour, with his brown eyes appearing constantly startled behind their owlish spectacle frames, while the upturned corners of his mouth made him appear forever on the brink of laughter.

‘That’s great for me,’ Charlotte smiled, holding out her glass. ‘Go steady with the plate now, Chloe.’

‘She’s fine,’ Danni assured her, keeping close to Chloe as she carried the artful tower of lemons out to the table.

Charlotte turned back to Phil as he finished filling her glass, and taking a generous sip she said, ‘How was Auckland?’

‘Worth the trip, as ever,’ he replied. ‘I ran into Rick at the boat show. Have you met his business partner yet, Hamish . . . I can’t remember his surname.’

Charlotte smiled. ‘No, but I’ve heard a lot about him.’

‘They’re doing well with that agency of theirs, only six years in and already one of the big-shot agencies from New York, or is it London, is showing interest in buying them out. They’re heading for great things, those two. Just watch this space.’

Having heard the same prediction from Rick and Bob, Charlotte readily toasted the prospect. ‘So, did you buy anything at the show?’ she wondered wryly, knowing he’d only gone for a longing look round.

He chuckled. ‘Afraid my scientist’s cheque book doesn’t stretch that far, but hey, I can always dream.’

‘Time to eat,’ Bob boomed across the general burble of chat.

‘We need extra napkins,’ Katie called from the table. ‘Can you get them, Charlotte? They’re in the drawer . . .’

‘I know where they are,’ Charlotte interrupted, going to fetch them.

‘I wonder what her last slave died of?’ Shelley teased as she came to refill a water jug.

‘Don’t worry, it wasn’t fetching napkins,’ Katie shot back.

Charlotte glanced at Phil, whose eyebrows were raised expressively.

Reflecting the irony, she took the napkins to the table, saying to Katie, ‘So, Rick’s not joining us tonight?’

Katie flashed her a look. ‘Actually, he’s in Sydney, so it would be difficult.’

Charlotte was about to tell her that Phil had seen him in Auckland earlier when she thought better of it. For all she knew Rick had boarded a plane later in the day and so could indeed be in Sydney by now – just.

‘Sweetie,’ Katie said to Chloe who’d climbed on to the empty chair between her and Danni, ‘why don’t you go and sit next to Grandpa?’

As Chloe stiffened, Charlotte’s eyes turned flinty. Katie knew her suggestion would cause a problem, so why on earth had she done that?

Jumping in quickly, Bob said, ‘You don’t want to sit next to smelly old me, do you? This is the boys’ end – but I’m sure Craig will swap if you’d like him to.’

Chloe shook her head and slid off her chair to press against Charlotte. ‘Sit with Mummy,’ she said shyly.

‘Of course, come on darling,’ Charlotte said, and hiking her up, away from the nasty lady, she carried her to the other end of the table where Anna was already making room for them.

‘OK, bon appétit, everyone,’ Bob declared as Sarah brought out the potatoes. ‘Anna, my darling, you’ve prepared another royal banquet.’

‘Not without help,’ she insisted, raising her glass. ‘To the fishermen, Bob, Phil and Rick.’

‘Hey! What about yours truly?’ a cheery-faced man in an All Blacks shirt and wraparound shades piped up. Recognising him as the local police officer who’d become a firm friend of the family since bringing a very drunken teenage Shelley home from a concert in town, Charlotte found herself marvelling all over again at how easily and readily people mixed out here. ‘I was on the dive last weekend too,’ he reminded Anna.

‘Sorry Grant, sorry, sorry,’ she winced. ‘To you too, with knobs on.’

As everyone laughed and raised their glasses, he removed his shades to treat her to a playful glare.

‘You out with us again this weekend?’ Bob asked him, helping himself to a gigantic crayfish and passing the platter on.

‘Sure, if the missus will let me.’

‘Let you?’ his wife retorted. ‘I’ll be happy to get rid of you.’

As the banter continued and spread around the table along with the food, Charlotte tucked a napkin into the neck of Chloe’s T-shirt and served her a forkful of lobster.

‘Where’s Boots?’ Chloe asked in a whisper.

Glancing over her shoulder to check the bear was where she’d left him, on one of the veranda’s sofas, Charlotte said, ‘He’s just over there. Do you want him now?’

Chloe nodded.

Knowing she was tired, and that large gatherings could sometimes unsettle her, especially when someone suggested she should go to sit with Bob, Charlotte was about to get up and fetch the bear when Anna said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll go. Just make sure she has something to eat.’

‘I think she might have filled up on pipis,’ Charlotte replied, ‘which probably won’t have done this tummy much good, will it?’

Chloe giggled as Charlotte poked her belly, then hid her face in Charlotte’s arm.

‘I think you’re absolutely shattered, young lady,’ Charlotte told her.

Chloe nodded and grabbed Boots into a fierce embrace as Anna handed him to her.

‘Just eat this little bit of crayfish and two potatoes,’ Charlotte said, ‘then you can curl up on the chair behind me.’

Obediently Chloe opened her mouth for the food to go in and closed it again as she chewed. Her table manners were good, even if her confidence was as fragile as a sparrow’s egg.

Therapy was the answer, of course, but it couldn’t happen yet. She was too young, the past was still too fresh in her mind and the last thing she needed was someone forcing her to relive it all. Better, for the time being, to carry on as though nothing bad had ever happened, that she had always been here with Mummy and Nanna and that her terrible, evil daddy was never going to be in her life again.

Did she think of him at all? Was there a part of her that actually longed for him even after what he’d done? She never asked for him, and Charlotte never spoke of him so it wasn’t possible to tell.

Catching her mother’s eye, she wondered if Anna’s thoughts were running along the same lines. She’d be as horrified as Charlotte would if Chloe ever did express a desire to see her father, but they’d have to deal with it somehow if the time came, though please God it never would.

‘The shoot I’m doing over at Kauri Cliffs next week?’ Anna said. ‘I could do with some extra assistance, if you’re free.’

Charlotte lit up. ‘Count me in,’ she declared, thrilled to be asked. Ever since Te Puna Lodge had been featured in
Design Folio
some ten or twelve years ago, Anna had found herself with a new career as a stylist for some of the country’s more upmarket home wares and clothing catalogues. Charlotte had already assisted her on a couple of occasions since arriving, and had enjoyed it so much that she was definitely up for doing it again, especially if it was going to be at one of the world’s most exclusive hotels. ‘Who’s the client?’ she asked. ‘The hotel itself, or is it just being used as a location?’

‘A location,’ Anna confirmed. ‘The client is Owens Lifestyle, an Auckland-based company who’re hoping to expand through mail order. They’ve got some gorgeous linens, I’ll show you the portfolio they sent through. It’s only two hundred dollars for a pillowcase, or five hundred for an embroidered throw.’

Charlotte gave a choke of laughter. ‘So we’ll be buying it all up then,’ she retorted drily.

Laughing, Anna nodded for her to look at Chloe, whose head was lolling towards the table.

Pushing back her chair, Charlotte said, ‘Come on sweetheart, let’s lie you down, shall we?’

‘And Boots,’ Chloe mumbled sleepily as Charlotte carried her to the pillowy sofa behind them.

‘Yes, you hold him nice and tightly now.’

‘That’s great! Did you hear that, Charlotte?’ Shelley called across the table. ‘Katie’s free to join us for lunch tomorrow.’

Glad her back was turned, Charlotte raised a hand with a thumbs up and stooped down closer to Chloe. ‘Off you go to dreamland,’ she murmured softly. ‘Mummy’s here.’

Chloe smiled and put a hand up to Charlotte’s face. ‘Love you,’ she whispered throatily.

‘I love you too,’ Charlotte whispered back, feeling herself melting with the sheer force of it.

As Chloe’s eyes fluttered closed Charlotte stroked her hair and swore silently to herself that no matter what, she would never, ever let anything bad happen to her precious little girl again.

It was past ten o’clock now and Charlotte had carried Chloe upstairs to the room they usually shared when they stayed at the lodge. Though Bob had offered to drive them over to the bach and help carry Chloe down the incline and over the footbridge, Charlotte had decided against it. Chloe was still too nervous around him. It was the same with the other men – apart from Rick. She was mostly fine provided they didn’t single her out for attention; if they did, or, heaven forbid, if they tried to touch her, it was tragic to see. She didn’t become hysterical, never that, she merely seemed to collapse from within, hanging her head and shoulders, or turning to Charlotte with terrified eyes, proving that the horror inside her remained as livid as the fear.

It was heartbreaking, devastating even, which was why leaving England and bringing her here to Te Puna had been so important. Charlotte could take care of her now in a way that hadn’t been possible before. She could make her feel safe and loved and gradually, she felt sure, Chloe would come to trust every member of the family and believe that the horrors in the past were well and truly over.