The House On Burra Burra Lane (28 page)

‘I won’t stay long.’ She faced the moment she’d prepared for. ‘I wanted to tell you that I will accept my responsibility to you, and that I will help in whatever way I can. But I won’t be living with you.’

Her mother breathed through her nostrils. ‘And Oliver?’

‘I’ve told him I’ll pay him back the money.’

‘And the paperwork?’

‘I don’t have it. I burnt it,’ she lied.

‘You told him that?’

‘No.’

Her mother turned and studied the carpet. ‘I don’t believe you. You’re hiding something.’

‘Let me worry about Oliver. I’ll handle him if he threatens us anymore. I’ll call in the police if necessary.’

‘And where would that leave me? I took that money off him. You’d implicate me in all of this by going to the police. You have to leave it alone, forget it. You have to tell Oliver you won’t do anything about it and that you believe him.’

Sammy raised her brow. ‘Believe him? Do you really think he didn’t take that money from his clients?’

‘He told me he’d put it back.’

‘What?’ Sammy stepped closer. ‘When? Has he called you in the last week?’

Verity shrugged. ‘He scares me, Samantha.’

A shudder ran down Sammy’s spine. ‘He scares me too,’ she said softly, wanting to ease her mother’s concern. Verity was a difficult woman and an unloving mother, but she must have had sleepless nights worrying about this. ‘I’ll fix things. I won’t implicate you.’ Oliver had probably put the money back like her mother said. The fear of having someone even suspect a wrongdoing would have forced him to replace the money and attempt to wipe out any proof of what he’d done. Except that Sammy had proof. Only dates and amounts but if it was audited the truth would come out.

‘How are you going to pay him back?’ Verity asked.

‘I’ve seen Kate today, and she’s going to put more work my way.’

‘And what about us?’

Sammy paused and met her mother’s eye. She felt her own gaze grow as determined as Verity’s. ‘We’re not exactly happy in each other’s company. I think we should take it slowly. We both hold bad feelings for each other, but if we can get to a point of mutual understanding, I believe we have a chance for a similar kind of respect.’

Verity sniffed. ‘Are you going back to that town?’

‘I’m returning to Swallow’s Fall today. I have a number of things I need to make arrangements for … ’ She faltered at the thought of seeing Ethan and telling him what she had decided on. It would upset many an applecart, but he needed to know it first, before the town. It would affect him.

‘There are people I need to speak to,’ she said. ‘I had begun to make a life there, I’ve already made commitments to the town, and I need to sort all that out and see how it can be managed.’

‘Then what?’ Verity asked. ‘What are you going to do?’

She had to take her plans one step at a time, and no doubt there’d be embarrassment involved. Someone at Kookaburra’s would draw up the tab, take the dollars thrown down on the table, and then the town would sit back and watch as Sammy put her plans into place in her own time, not rushing for anyone. Not dissimilar to Ethan, she thought, and found a rueful smile on her mouth. At last, Samantha Walker had staying power.

‘I don’t know what you’ve got to smirk at,’ Verity interrupted, ‘but my patience is running thin.’

Sammy turned from her mother, picked up the holdall. ‘Patience was never one of your virtues. And I think I’ve already outstayed my welcome.’ She smiled, politely, and kept her gaze straight. ‘I’ll telephone you each week. Perhaps in a month or so, we could meet up.’ She raised her hand as Verity opened her mouth to speak. ‘But not here. I don’t wish to set foot inside this house again until we’ve reached that respectful place where we can both talk without disliking each other so much.’

She took her holdall, pushed down all the art materials Kate had given her, with the promise of more help for the young people of Swallow’s Fall and the art classes. Was there anyone in town who could draw? It might be best if someone else took charge of the classes. She zipped the bag closed. There would be time to sort it out.

She walked through to the hall, knowing her mother wouldn’t offer any parting goodbye or remedy; no,
Let’s discuss it. Can’t we sort out our differences now?
But comfortable with her own efforts at redress. It would never have been easy. She’d made the move, now she had to wait; do it again in a week or so, on the telephone.

The front door opened before she reached it. ‘Hello, Samantha,’ Oliver said, his teeth too white against his flawlessly tanned face. ‘Coming home? Or leaving again?’

Sammy stalled, nearly dropped the holdall.

‘You almost missed her,’ Verity said behind Sammy. ‘I’ll pack an overnight bag. You can tell her while I’m doing it.’

‘Tell me what?’ Sammy swung around to see her mother head up the stairs.

She gripped her bag firmly, squared her shoulders and turned to face Oliver. ‘I’m leaving. Alone. I’m catching an afternoon flight to Canberra. There is nothing for us to talk about.’

Oliver’s gaze pinpointed Sammy, the smooth skin around his eyes creased as he smiled. If a person didn’t know him, they’d be captured by the ingratiating façade, wouldn’t notice the deviousness behind his smile. Like a gambler about to deal a fixed deck of cards to a group of novice players.

‘We planned ahead,’ he said. ‘We’re coming with you. We can have a little financial discussion on the way.’

‘I expected much better service,’ Verity said. ‘No wonder nobody knows that Canberra is the capital of Australia. Nobody would want to know, if this is what they refer to as excellence. This is an international airport. How long have we been standing in
this
queue? We disembarked an hour ago and still haven’t got a car.

‘For God’s sake, Verity, give it a rest, would you?’ Oliver said, giving Verity a sharp look over his shoulder.

Sammy sighed. Verity had taken issue with everything so far; the toilets, the coffee, the lack of choice in sandwiches and cakes. She ought to be grateful she was here. Oliver hadn’t wanted Verity to come any more than Sammy had wanted Oliver to come.

Verity stepped back from Oliver, moved closer to Sammy and whispered, ‘This is not how I’d thought it would be, Samantha.’

Sammy looked at her mother. ‘What did you expect when you made your plans with him?’

Her mother swallowed, then moistened her mouth. ‘I made a mistake.’

‘Stop arguing with him for a start. Let him think he’s in control for the moment.’

‘What good is that going to do us?’

‘It’ll give me more time to think.’ Sammy hadn’t interfered in the verbal ping-pong match between her mother and Oliver. She’d been at the hands of Oliver’s vicious influence before. It had been far from pleasant. But here he was, at her side, despite her best efforts at alternative suggestions. She’d said she’d stay overnight in Sydney, but Oliver had said he wanted to see ‘the country dump where you live’ and her mother had insisted on tagging along, telling Oliver that if it wasn’t for her, he would never have found Samantha in the first place.

‘There, Oliver,’ Verity said, her voice pinched, suggesting tiredness alongside her worry. ‘There’s a man in uniform. Get his attention.’

‘Yes, yes, I see him.’ Oliver lifted his hand and beckoned in his most patronising manner.

Sammy patted her mother’s arm, feeling a little sorry for her. She’d be playing dutiful daughter for a long time, but at least now it would be on her terms. Once they’d got rid of Oliver.

She kept her head bowed, her holdall clutched in her hand. Her fingers were numb from the tight grip she’d had on it during the last hour as they queued and waited and filled out forms and showed ID, trying to get a hire car Oliver felt was suitable for his status.

She looked over her shoulder at the Domestic Arrivals gate they’d come through earlier, at the people hugging each other, smiling in greeting, taking luggage from weary travellers whilst slapping shoulders in welcome. Children skipped into the arms of fathers who hugged them tightly, looking over their heads at wives who waited for their turn.

All sorts of people: men and women obviously in political or marketing arenas, and those in casual attire, farmers maybe, flying home to Canberra from a visit somewhere, their big country 4WD’s parked at the long-stay car park, tanks full of fuel, ready to take the drive back to the land.

Oliver handed his credit card to the man on the other side of the counter. By the look of steely annoyance on Oliver’s face, his patience was still as easily broken as her mother’s.

Sammy closed her eyes and pictured home. How the hell was she going to get rid of Oliver?

‘I’ve loved two women, Ethan. One was my wife, and the other was your mother.’

The words hadn’t been said aloud but they were beating a primal rhythm in Ethan’s head.
Father and son. Father and son
. ‘It can’t be.’ As he said it every fibre in his being wanted it to be true but he was struggling to understand. His mother had married Thomas late. She’d been in her early thirties when Robert was born. Grandy would have been fifty five, his mother thirty eight when Ethan was born. ‘I’m having a bit of trouble … ’ He swallowed. ‘Getting my head around this.’

‘I know. You don’t believe me, do you?’

‘It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I can’t see it.’

‘That’s because you never expected it. Look at me.’

Ethan turned his gaze to the old man on the bench. He didn’t have to sweep a look over him, he could see plainly enough that Grandy was built the way he was built. Older, much older, but the shadow of the younger man was still imprinted in the strength and the features. Grandy had looked like a strong giant to the young Ethan. Reliable, dependable and never pushy … well, not so much that a person would understand in what direction they were being persuaded. Ethan drew a breath, frowning, and saw the same creases around Grandy’s blue eyes that he saw in the mirror every morning as he shaved.

‘What’s my name?’ Grandy asked.

‘Edmond Morelly.’

‘Edmond Ethan Morelly.’

Ethan pushed the breath out of his lungs.

‘It’s alright, son. Take it in as best you can.’

‘I need … ’
Time.

‘I have some explaining to do,’ Grandy said, ‘and I’d like it if you listened. There ain’t much daylight left and I’m hoping you’ll get a deeper understanding before that Canberra bus comes back into town.’

Ethan looked up sharply. ‘Do you know she’s coming back?’

‘I don’t know what her plans are after today, but I know she’s coming back to town tonight, on the bus. Julia told me. Now, if you’d care to listen … ’

Ethan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He nodded at the old man, not knowing what the hell would come next.

Grandy took his gaze to the walkway and studied it as though looking at the map of the story he was about to tell; wanting to make sure he charted each fork in the road. ‘I loved Linnie before my wife died. Couldn’t help it. Tried not to, of course. Loved my wife too, spent forty years loving her and giving her kids and making a life with her. She was my best companion right up to the day she died twenty years ago. I’ll be glad to see her again when my time comes, and only her, but there was something about Linnie that demanded my attention. A little spark of recognition between us that we kept at bay for the first two years, and kept hidden after you were born.

‘Perhaps it was because I couldn’t have her, that made me want her.’ Grandy ground his teeth. ‘Probably right. I don’t mind admitting it.’

‘I can’t … I can see me in you now, why didn’t I see it before?’ Ethan didn’t get an answer. ‘Grand … ’ He stopped. Didn’t know what to call the man at his side.

Edmond Ethan Morelly slanted his gaze at Ethan. ‘Grandy,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s who I am to you and that’s who I’ll remain. I don’t want this getting out and hurting my other children, or my grandchildren, or the memory of my wife … or your mother.’

Ethan nodded. ‘I understand. It stays with me.’ He leaned back. ‘And Sammy, if she’ll have me. I want her to know.’

Grandy’s turn to nod. ‘Getting an understanding now?’

Ethan swallowed. ‘You
were
like a father to me. All my life, you were there. In the town, passing comments, keeping me straight. Even kicking me out of town.’

‘That was for your own good. I watched you. Hoped for you. Then Samantha Walker moved here and I thought … yes. She’s for him, and he’s for her.’

A shiver ran through Ethan. ‘I want her. I want so many things.’

‘You’ve got land. You can make a bigger go of things than you currently believe possible. You can build from the ground up, more than just your life with Sammy.’

‘I’ve got twenty three acres,’ Ethan agreed. He’d increase the practice, make the house attached to the surgery a little bigger, big enough to have his wife live a comfortable life, and for any children she might want to have with him. Or perhaps they’d be happy in the house. He’d return to Burra Burra Lane—whatever she wanted.

‘You’ve got two hundred and twenty three acres, Ethan. Two hundred and thirty three with Sammy’s ten.’

Ethan paused, looking his father in the eye and not understanding how he could have missed so much. Grandy was big, like Ethan. His eyes held the same light, although Grandy’s gaze was deepened with more knowledge and memories than Ethan had. ‘What do you mean?’ Was Grandy referring to his son and the land Junior Morelly had out of town?

‘I started buying up land around the house on Burra Burra Lane the day you were born,’ Grandy said. ‘Five or ten acres at a time, sometimes a whole parcel of thirty or more. Took me nineteen years. ’Course, didn’t expect you to sell the bloody house and let it go to strangers—who did bugger all with it and let Linnie’s hard work go to wrack and ruin, and I blame you for that—but I kept buying up the land for you anyway. I’d learned that things have a way of changing and coming full circle.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Ethan said. ‘I can’t take your land, you have your children, it should be theirs.’

‘They don’t need it. You will. It’s two hundred acres plus the twenty you bought off me.’ Grandy chuckled. ‘Made you buy your own land. Figured it was my revenge because I was so pissed off with you for selling the house.’ He lost his smile, returned to his serious, steady gaze. ‘The money you gave me for that is with your lawyer, along with the deed.’