Ember Flowers (26 page)

The toddler
looked at her father for reassurance, he only nodded at her.
Annabelle nodded back, mimicking, sure this was some kind of
game.

The
policewoman’s brow arched. “What happened?”

The little girl
looked up at her again, then down at her brightly painted
fingernails. Playing with Jo’s hand. She tipped up her daughter’s
chin. “Annabelle?”

Little blue
eyes darted to her father, then up at Jo. She went back to playing.
Owen sighed in annoyance, offering an explanation. “She’s worried
she’ll get in trouble.”

She pursed her
lips, narrowing her eyes. “What exactly did Annabelle say to
you?”

He took a deep
breath. “That woman’s a pervert. Made her promise to keep it a
secret. Which is clearly what she’s doing now.” Gesturing at her
with his hand. Jo shook her head “Owen..”

He growled,
eyes flashing. “This is important Jo. For fuck’s sake. You can’t
just disregard this? Take her word over mine? Annabelle’s my
daughter too.”

The policeman
stood over them. Jo pushed herself up, sending her daughter away
and out of danger. He pointed a finger at her. “Jo. If my kid says
something. I take it seriously. If you won’t investigate..then I
will. Her name will go into the system..I’ll get forensics in there
to confiscate every cd, every computer. Then I’ll ask her myself
what the hell is going on!”

They glared at
each other. Jo grit her teeth, nails biting as she clenched her
fists. “You don’t..”

“Is there a
problem?” Pamela’s green eyes were pinned on Owen, her lips pinched
in a scowl. His raised voice had drawn her from the kitchen, along
with Annabelle running out into the yard. She stood in the doorway,
watching the two of them. Jo had retreated here enough times for
her to know what was going on.

Owen shook his
head, regaining his composure. “Pamela. No. There’s no problem. But
for once I think you and I might agree on something?..”

Jo’s eyes
widened, she shook her head, pleading. His blue eyes tracked over
her dismissively.
She’d had her chance for him to be civilised.
The old dragon would give her something to think about.

The older woman
crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh? And what would that be Owen?
That you need to stay away from Joanne?”

He looked at
his ex wife in thinly veiled disgust. “No. Annabelle’s told me
something terrible. Jo’s shacked up with a pervert, a fucking woman
no less. Annabelle said she touched her. I want this investigated.
But Jo doesn’t think it’s a good idea.” He turned to the older
woman. “What do you think Pamela? Wouldn’t you want to know your
granddaughter was safe?”

A gasp of
shock, and a manicured hand raised to cover her mouth. Jo’s mother
shot glances between the two. Her daughter’s grey eyes looked
flustered and upset. It took her a moment to compose herself, then
Pamela’s eyes narrowed. “Owen, I think you should leave. Right
now.”

“Not until I
get some sort of answer.”

“Owen!..”

Her mother cut
in, taking him by the arm. “Leave. Get out of here.” Her cultured
voice high and shrill.

He pushed her
away, Owen found Joanne’s grip painfully tight around his wrist,
her eyes hard. Each word slowly enunciated. “I’ll call you.
I’ll..speak to her. But you should go.”

Owen wrenched
his arm free. “Fine. I’ll go. But if you don’t say something to
your..girlfriend. I will. You know I will, and I'll make sure
everyone gets a good look.”

Pamela could
see her daughter’s teeth grinding. The policewoman ushered him to
the door. “Just go Owen. I’ll call you.”

Her ex husband
left brusquely, sliding down his sunglasses as he walked out to his
car. It wasn’t until he was half way up the street that he smiled.
Things had gone almost perfectly. Jo turned, to find her mother
still shaking her head, looking her up and down like she was
someone else.

Chapter
36

A lovely autumn
afternoon, the trees had all turned golden amongst the vineyards,
boughs of red and gold overhanging the white fences. Her drive up
to the winding road seemed to stretch on forever. Jo grit her
teeth.
It was ridiculous.
She knew it. The accusation had
dwelled unpleasantly in her mind since the conversation with Owen
yesterday. Even the awkward tiptoeing and avoidance of her mother
hadn’t stopped it weighing heavily upon her thoughts.

“
Joanne..what does he mean?..your girlfriend?”

“
Are
you..are you telling me you’re seeing a woman? Joanne..you aren’t
one of those, I don’t understand..”

Her patience
had worn thin, she forced a rain check on the conversation with her
departure. Pamela had been shocked to say the least. Joanne had
wanted to crawl under a rock, but her new found bravery got the
best of her.

“
You don’t
know her mother. She’s sweet, and kind. I don’t know quite how it
happened but it did. I don’t regret it..”

She knew Owen’s
words were false, knew it deeply
. Jean could never do that
.
Yet, a minuscule part of her wondered, niggling, spurred on only by
a mother’s over protective instinct.
No
. She pushed it away,
refusing to give it a voice. She’d taken Annabelle aside, but all
she could get out of her was that the woman had hugged her when she
felt sick. It was inconclusive, only pointing to the affectionate
bond between the two.

Jo had thought
about just forgetting the whole thing, but she knew that she
couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her.

She had to ask
her, she’d know in her eyes. And if she didn’t do it herself..Owen
would barge in, vilify Jean before any consideration, pronounce her
guilty. He’d treat her like dirt, tarnish her honest name by
entering her into a database as a person of interest. Something she
didn’t deserve. Further, after such treatment, it was likely Jean
would want nothing to do with her.

Jo sighed, it
had occurred to her that this was all a lie. A means of creating
chaos. Unfortunately, it seemed there was no easy road. Her
daughter was at stake, she needed answers.

She pulled in
eventually into Jean’s long gently curving gravel driveway. The
ghost gums had all begun their pale transformation, standing with
tall white limbs amongst the orange and red. The willow in Jean’s
yard weeping with bronze boughs, flowers were still blooming around
the house, lawn a perennial emerald green.

Jo pulled up in
front of the old white ute. Waiting a moment to steel herself
before she got out. Her hands left their hard grip on the wheel,
she opened her door, her skirt billowing slightly as she stepped
out of the car. The porch door opened, Jean emerged wearing a cream
knitted sweater and blue jeans, feet bare. The older woman waited
on the porch, smiling at her as she approached.

The blonde
joined her beside the door, Jean smiled broadly, reaching out to
take her hand.

“Hi.” Said Jo,
gruffly.

“Hi yourself.”
Jean stood tiptoe on bare feet to kiss her. Jo returned the kiss, a
quick peck on the lips lacking her usual warmth. Jean’s brows
furrowed slightly, she remained holding Jo’s larger hand.

“Excellent
timing, I wanted to show you something..” Jo sighed under her
breath as she was lead by the hand into the dining room. The
floorboards complained softly as they walked. Jean had a desk lamp
set up, blankets, boxes and a couple of snap locked containers on
the old polished table.

She heard the
soft peeps before she peered into the box. It was larger than the
one given to Annabelle. Larger to accommodate the fledgling’s
growing size. Small fluffy feathers over a scrawny budded form. The
baby bird looked at her through filmy eyes. Peeping at her with a
short straight beak. Jean unsnapped the container, pulling out a
eye dropper and a vial of liquid. She smiled, dropping a thimble
full slowly into the chick’s mouth.

“Diluted honey,
in water..”

Jo nodded, her
resolve fading.
If only she could forget about the whole thing
and go back to how she usually felt.

Jean turned to
her, smiling. “You can tell Annabelle that her little friend is
doing well.”

Jo nodded, her
eyes cast to the ground. Jean looked at her, reaching to stroke
fingertips over her face. “Sweetheart what’s wrong? You’ve been
quiet since you got here? You barely said two words to me over the
phone.”

Jo looked into
the dark gentle eyes, long lashes fluttered as Jean blinked slowly,
worried.

“Jean, can we
talk?”

Now she looked
truly concerned. “Of course.”

The shorter
woman walked back into the living room, sitting down on the sofa.
Jo sat across from her, sideways on the wide pad of the recliner,
her long legs bent in front of her at the knees.

She clasped her
hands between her thighs. Sighing. There was no way to approach
this gently. Jean was looking at her with a tightness to her
normally smiling mouth.

The words were
stuck in her throat. She looked at her lover again, Jean looked
back, giving her full attention.

“Jean..?”

“Yes?”

Grey eyes
blinked. “Have..have you ever behaved in a way that might confuse
my daughter?”

Jean looked at
her bewildered, her brows drawing. “What do you mean?”

Jo sighed
again. “Jean..someone suggested to me that..” She struggled to find
the words. “..That there may have been an incident of some
kind.”

Jean was
looking at her incredulously. “What-What are you saying?”

“Apparently…Annabelle seems to think that you touched her. I know
it can’t..Is it, is it true?”

The older woman
shot to her feet, looking at her with wide eyes and a frozen
shocked mouth. “What?!” Jean remained bolted to the ground, her
voice higher and surprised. “Is this?..Is this some sick fucking
joke?”

Jo knew. She
just knew. She’d destroyed something wonderful. She could see their
entire relationship implode in the horrified woman’s eyes. It
looked as though the very words had made her nauseous.

She was tearing
up. “Jean, I had to ask..”

The older woman
paced a step, before turning to look at her, her face was a turmoil
of emotions, she looked as though her very soul had been crushed.
Her voice was softer, barely above a whisper. Tears trickled out
and down her cheeks. “How..? How can you..even think that? How
could you ever..?”

The blonde bit
her lip, she stood, wanting to reach out, immediately feeling
terrible. She knew honesty when she saw it, and Jean was looking at
her as though Jo had stabbed her with a knife. Jean pushed her
hands away, stepping out of her reach. “No! Don’t touch me!” her
voice quivering.

“Jean, I had to
ask..I knew-knew it wasn’t true..I had to..I’m sorry..” She was
pleading, stepping toward her. Wanting desperately to reconnect and
reassure.

The older woman
shook her head, her eyes watery, staring at her. “Joanne. I love
you..I love your daughter..how on Earth? How on Earth could you ask
me that?!”

Jo raked her
fingertips through her blonde hair. “I..I had to. He was going
to..”

Jean’s eyes
narrowed in an angry glare. “Get out.”

“Jean, I know
it isn’t true..”

“Get!! Out!!”
She was pointing to the door. Her normally gentle eyes almost black
with rage.

The tall woman
looked at her pleadingly, sniffling tears of her own, glossy grey
eyes and a trembling lip. Jean just pointed again to the door. “Get
out.” This time it was barely above a whisper.

Chapter
37

“Mummy?”

“Yes?”

“Can we see
Jean?” The girl looked hopeful.

The blonde
sighed.
Cabin fever.
A week or so had passed, weekends were
harder, they hadn’t spent one at home in a while. Suddenly her
little house seemed so small and cramped. More so with packing
boxes everywhere. She’d made up her mind.

“No Annabelle.
No Jean, we’re staying home today.”

A pout from her
daughter’s small lips, the child crossed her arms over her
chest.

She sighed,
feeling defeated. “Go play with your Barbies honey. You have toys
here.” Annabelle’s room would be the last to be packed up.

The child
stomped away, giving her a glare over her shoulder. Somehow sensing
a tantrum wasn’t in her best interest.

Joanne pulled
her phone out of her bag.
Nothing. Nothing since..
She missed
the little texts she’d get, telling her she was in the other
woman’s thoughts. Her mind seemed to playback a constant loop as
soon as she found herself fading. Sleeping had been impossible.
Jean hadn’t answered her phone. Instead, Joanne sent her an email.
Knowing she’d read it. At least she’d have the full story if they
never spoke again. She hoped so.

“
Joanne. I
love you..I love your daughter..”

“
..How on
Earth? How on Earth could you ask me that?!”

She sighed
bitterly.
Jean loved her.
Joanne knew that Jean felt deep
feelings, she’d seen it in the woman’s face sometimes. But hearing
it, hearing it made her cry silently every time the vision
resurfaced. Especially when it felt like she’d never be able to say
it back. There had never seemed to be a right time, or maybe that’s
what she told herself.

The policewoman
had sat in her car for hours upon coming back. The tolerant
darkness of her driveway, enveloping her remorse. Her house cold
and vacant. Eventually she’d dragged herself inside. That was the
sadness, it was quickly replaced by anger. Anger at herself for
letting this happen. Anger at Owen for what seemed like the
up-teenth time he’d tried to get in her way. This time he’d
won.

Her car keys
had cut into her hand, she’d gripped them so tightly. Turning up at
his apartment. She had to confront him.