The House On Burra Burra Lane (14 page)

She grabbed a small glass from the draining board, sloshed about five fingers of brandy into it, dumped the bottle down and stared at the near-overflowing glass. Medicinal; she didn’t drink much usually. Verity always had a bottle in the kitchen, tucked away for those moments when shock or stress required something stronger than tea, so this was just a tradition. She moistened her lips and raised the glass. She needed this to calm her down and stop the ridiculous shaking that had taken her body over. She’d left the city without finalising anything, she’d just run away and now they’d chased her here. Foolish girl. Not a woman … a silly girl. She hadn’t found anything, just buried everything. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

‘Found this in the hall. What’s going on?’

She shot back. The glass slipped from her fingers and smashed in the enamel sink.
How had Ethan got in?
She stared at him, open-mouthed. Why hadn’t she heard his truck? The front door?

‘Sammy?’ He looked at the broken glass, the bottle of brandy, then back to her face. ‘What happened?’ He put the phone onto the benchtop and stepped forwards.

‘Nothing.’ She smoothed her hands over her hips. She was still in her pyjamas! She clutched at the jacket, at the buttons at her throat.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked evenly.

‘Just needed something stronger than tea.’

‘Why?’

‘Guilt.’ She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and blinked rapidly. She would not cry.

He took hold of her arm gently. ‘Let’s sit down for a minute.’ He led her towards the table.

‘I’m all right.’ She pulled from him. ‘I had a shock.’ She’d forgotten what it was like, hadn’t felt these hampering twinges of fright for weeks. She’d swapped a necklace of guilt for a string of shiny new pearls, adding another lustrous sphere with each step she took: her prowess, the new friends she’d made …
Ethan.

She sat in the chair he pulled out for her and shuffled her bottom against the back brace, crossing her legs at the ankles and putting her hands on her thighs, trying to rid herself of the sudden need to throw herself into his arms.

He pulled another chair from the table, swung it in one hand, placed it opposite hers and sat.

‘Are you going to do a friend thing?’ she asked.

‘Looks like it.’

She was about to be interrogated. How would she handle the bombardment? There’d be questions.
She’d have to answer.

He opened his coat, shook the collar slightly. Dust motes of builder’s debris sparkled around his head and shoulders, floating in the light from the sunny day outside. He leaned forwards, knees wide, elbows resting, fingers intertwined. ‘You’re shaking like a jelly.’

She clamped the trembling down by tightening her kneecaps and sitting on her hands. She’d talk a little about what was wrong, about what had happened. But where to begin? And how to end?

‘Hey.’ His hand was warm under her chin. He tilted her face until she caught his gaze. So steady, so patient as he waited.

‘I’m not very good at this, Ethan.’

‘At what?’

‘Talking.’

‘Take your time.’

She swallowed. ‘My mother wrote to me. I had to ring her and I didn’t want to.’ Verity had few friends, hardly spoke to any of the neighbours because she demanded and took all the time. Sammy always fought her mother’s wishes in some way, desperate to find a place where they could both survive. ‘She doesn’t love me.’ Too late to take the words back. First time she’d uttered them aloud. The shock and hurt was nearly too much. Verity had never expressed everyday, ordinary loving things to her, and she had no displays of respect left to give Verity. ‘And I don’t love her.’ Fault. Blame. The chains would never loosen, she had to face it. She had responsibilities to her parent and the accountability of that was giving her this blinding headache.

She pulled her hands from beneath her thighs and pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘When I was a little girl, my mother wanted party dresses and silence.’ She straightened on her chair and looked Ethan in the eye. ‘I wanted to run with the gang. She hated that so I snuck out when she wasn’t looking. I was disobedient.’

He didn’t say anything. No feature on his face changed or moved to comprehension.

‘I’m not a nice girl. What’s your advice?’

‘Not enough information yet.’

She should have known he’d want more. ‘I wanted to draw, which was all right with my mother as long as my drawings remained classical. Nothing splashy. But I’m a slapdash type of girl.’ Temper flashed. ‘Don’t smile at that.’

‘Carry on.’ He didn’t remove the slight curve to his mouth but his voice was tender.

‘I like to make a splash. I see a parade of colour or activity around me and I take it all and hold it tight. I’m artistic and slightly arrogant with it. But I’m not sloppy.’

‘I know that.’

She waited. ‘You want more?’

‘I’ve got nothing else to do except fix the shed wall.’

It was complicated. Did she want him to know everything? ‘My father died when I was three. My mother never forgave him. She had to work fulltime to bring me up. She never told me she loved me, I don’t think she ever did. I tried hard to love her because I was supposed to, but I can’t anymore, and I have all this guilt about it because she’s my mother for God’s sake.’

‘You don’t have to do what others demand of you.’

‘It’s not that easy.’

‘Why not?’

‘Oliver Dolan. My ex-fiancé.’

Silence. Then, ‘You have a fiancé?’

‘I have an
ex
fiancé.’

He didn’t move but his gaze deepened. ‘Who left who?’

‘I left him.’

He straightened instantly, hands on his knees. ‘And what trouble is this guy giving you?’

‘He’s giving my mother trouble, hoping to get me back. According to both of them I’m an impractical girl who needs teaching a lesson.’

‘Why?’

Her body felt as rigid as the bone-hard chair. She shifted. Still hard. Ethan hadn’t told her about his wife and she was ashamed about not mentioning she’d been engaged. Although it was entirely different—there hadn’t been a marriage. ‘He and my mother are squabbling over money—that’s why I left the city. My mother wants me to go back and marry Oliver because he’ll keep her—and Oliver is worried about the paperwork I have on him and the money I think he stole from his clients.’

‘Wait.’ Ethan reached out and placed his hand over hers. ‘Slow down.’

‘Can’t.’ She had to keep going, before she choked. ‘That’s why I left Sydney and came here. I thought if I got away from them, they’d stop arguing over me and the money.’

‘Do you owe this Dolan guy money, Sammy?’

‘No. I didn’t take his money but my mother did. I know he stole that money—I just can’t prove it.’

He pulled his chair closer, knees either side of hers. He took her hands in his. ‘You’re frightened of him?’

She licked her lips, took a breath and blew it out. ‘Is it that obvious?’

He swore under his breath. ‘What did he do to you?’

She gathered the words before speaking. ‘I’m ashamed to tell you he was my mother’s choice, not mine, and that I let myself be led by them. My mother is the type of woman who never smiles unless it’s with intent of gaining something for her own purpose. I thought I was doing the right thing by going out with Oliver, judging by all the smiles I was getting—but I didn’t conform to either of their expectations.’

‘Which were what?’

‘My mother gave me advice on how to behave with him. She told me to sort myself out and do as I was asked by both of them.’

‘And what did he expect of you?’

She looked into Ethan’s eyes. ‘You’re a man, you can imagine.’

He stilled. ‘Imagine for a moment I can’t. What did he do to you?’ No change in his tone, but his eyes were as dark as a cold stream in winter.

‘Nothing, to begin with, except comments on how I behaved and how I dressed, which wasn’t smart enough for him. He chose clothes for me, bought them for me—then expected me to wear them.’

‘Are we talking city clothes, or are we talking bedroom?’

She scrunched her eyes closed so he wouldn’t see her humiliation. ‘My mother is the problem.’ Her jaw tightened as she spoke.

‘Dolan is your problem.’

And Ethan Granger was too smart. ‘Well, whatever. My first priority now is to my mother.’

‘Your first priority is to yourself. Are you telling me you’re thinking of going back to them? Because they’re demanding it?’

‘Yes. No.’ She stood. ‘I don’t know yet. I haven’t had time to think it through.’

‘Now’s a good time.’

‘I don’t think so. I’m feeling pretty useless right now, with you staring at me.’

‘Let’s talk about your mother first so you’ve got something straight. She used the unfortunate events of her life to punish the one thing she could—the little girl who had no choice but to take it. Your mother used you, Sammy. She still is.’

She glanced down at him. ‘That’s harsh.’

He raised his chin. ‘It’s the truth, and Dolan is making use of it. He’s using your mother to get to you.’

‘I know that.’

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

She stepped back. ‘I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.’

He stood, the chair legs scraping on the tiled floor. ‘What does your head tell you?’

‘That I need to help her, pay Oliver back and get him off our backs.’

‘And what does your heart tell you?’

She pressed her hand against her chest, pushing at the discomfort hanging inside her. ‘That I’m scared of him. That I might never get away from either of them.’ She hadn’t meant to go this far …
don’t tell him anything else!
‘That I’m too soft, too stupid … ’

He took hold of her arms and pulled her into him. ‘Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.’

Worry and an engulfing fatigue threatened to knock her to the floor. This
was
an interrogation and she wasn’t prepared for it from Ethan. ‘Please … just let me be. I’ll be fine. I’ll work it out.’

‘Where is this paperwork you have on him?’

She nodded towards the cupboard behind him. ‘In that top drawer.’

He moved to the cupboard, opened the drawer, rummaged for a while and pulled out the paperwork. He scanned it quickly, folded it and put it into his coat pocket. ‘I’ll copy this and get it back to you. If necessary, we’ll get you a lawyer and some advice.’

A lawyer?
‘I thought I was safe here.’

‘You are safe here. I promise you that, but we have to make some plans.’

We?
Now she’d brought another person into her problem. Someone who wasn’t going to give up. ‘This is getting out of hand. I’m a useless daughter, a pushover girlfriend and now I’ve dragged a friend into it.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘I don’t want this.’

He took her hands from her face and pulled her closer, her hands captured in his, up against his chest. ‘None of this is your fault,’ he said. ‘When are you going to listen to your heart and forgive yourself, darling?’

His body was too warm, too comforting. Such sweet talk. Maybe he’d back off with this friendship thing when he learned how weak she’d really been. ‘Oliver taught me how to behave and I let him at first. He told me I’d be acceptable, with practice. I allowed myself be trapped by him
and
my mother—what do you think of that? Pathetic, I would say. Then one night I found myself attending my surprise engagement party. Everyone was there, my friends, people from work.’

‘You felt you couldn’t get out of it because of everyone watching you.’

‘I argued with him that night, told him I wouldn’t marry him. He got angry.’

Ethan inhaled and crushed her hands in his.

‘He told me it was time for another lesson in cooperation—
bedroom-wise.’
She spat the words, it was hard to voice them any other way.

‘Sammy … ’

‘I was scared—but I wasn’t afraid.’ She looked up into Ethan’s eyes. ‘When you’re afraid you panic, when you’re scared something kicks in and you fight. I fought like hell. I didn’t let him win.’ She’d never rationalised it this much, just suppressed it. ‘He told my mother I wouldn’t give him what he needed—he told her!’

‘It’s alright now … ’

‘She said I was taking the bread out of her mouth. Those were her words, her very words.’

‘It’s okay.’

She tugged her hands from Ethan’s. ‘I came here because I want to be
me
and I don’t know who that person is.’

‘I see you.’

‘No you don’t.’ Ethan Granger was the best man she’d ever known. In the midst of all this agony, she wanted him. Wanted him badly. She
was
crazy. Damaged and useless. ‘You don’t understand.’ She tightened all the muscles in her body so she didn’t throw herself at him and ask him to ring a bell for her. Only her.

‘I know what he wants from you, and why.’

She shook her head. ‘He thinks I’m a pushover.’

‘That’s not the woman I see.’

‘He went with other women. When I found out and confronted him he told me I’d have to get used to it because I wasn’t … ’ Her teeth chattered so fast she couldn’t say the words. ‘I let him manipulate me … why did I do that?’

Ethan cupped her chin and tilted her face. His eyes were narrowed, the planes of his face fixed like granite. ‘Because you were being pressured and they had your back against the wall. Not anymore. You don’t contact him until we’ve thought this through. He comes near you, he calls you, writes to you—I want to know.’

‘I don’t think he’ll do that.’

Surprise rocked the scowl from her face as he took hold of her shoulders and shook her, bodily shook her. ‘He’s a man. I know how he’ll manoeuvre you. I’ll deal with him if he comes near you but you have to promise to tell me.’

‘Ethan, don’t … ’

‘He wants you.’

She pounded her fists on his chest. ‘No!’ He
didn’t
understand. ‘He doesn’t want me, he wants to silence me and he’s prepared to marry me to get that silence. He thinks I’m incompetent. He told me I wasn’t enough woman for him. I wasn’t sexy enough.’ She pushed Ethan hard, knowing she was taking her frustration out on him, but resentment of what had happened and why stung. She looked away. ‘I’m not sexually alluring enough. Okay?’