Lawson's Bend Page 19

  ‘Well, I guess good food, dietary supplements and a bit of sex will do that for you,’ Stephen said with a grin. ‘So have you been putting the final touches on the shop?’

  Henny shook her head. ‘No, not today.’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘I called Mark in Melbourne . . . to talk about the res.’

  Stephen stared at her for a moment. ‘What?’

  ‘Just what I said. I called Mark—’

  ‘Geez, Hen!’ Stephen didn’t let her finish her sentence. ‘Why the hell would you do something like that?’

  ‘I didn’t want to upset Mrs Russo by asking her questions so I asked Nick and his great-uncle.’

  Stephen leant against the paddock fence. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I think there is some sort of cover up. I think something else happened up at the res and Harley was silenced to keep whatever it was coming to light. And I believe that Mark Russo was involved.’

  ‘So you’re just going to blindly ask a heap of questions and see if anyone bites?’

  Henny shrugged. ‘Not exactly. Everyone thinks that I’m writing an article—a memoir, if you like—of what happened that day. I said that I wanted the survivors’ stories and genuine impressions of the people who died.’

  ‘Do you think anyone is going to buy that?’

  ‘Look, it started off as a story to cover the fact that I was asking questions, but the more I think about it, the more I think that I will write it.’

  ‘For what purpose?’ Stephen asked.

  ‘The same one that I’ve been telling everyone—to have an accurate snapshot of what happened that day, how the event unfolded and how it affected everyone who had the misfortune to be there.’

  They fell silent and Henny walked over and leant on the fence next to Stephen. She looked out across the greening paddock to the large clump of gums in the distance.

  ‘I’m just worried that you’re going to get yourself hurt,’ Stephen said quietly.

  ‘I know.’

  He sighed. ‘So, did you find out anything?’

  Henny wrinkled her nose. ‘Nope. I only spoke to Mark for a few minutes. Did you know he’s married and expecting their first child? He didn’t want to talk and I can understand that. Maybe it was wishful thinking but I have to say something felt a bit off.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I can’t put my finger on it. I haven’t made up my mind if he just didn’t want to talk to me because it brought up hurtful memories or . . . or if he was trying to hide something.’

  ‘So you think there could be something there?’ Stephen asked.

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps I’m just chasing ghosts.’

  ‘Listen, I can’t do it tonight but do you want to go out to dinner? I’d cancel going to the movies with Dan but we haven’t hung out in a while.’

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yeah, I think so—we’ve always spent time together but lately not so much. I guess we’re both busy.’

  ‘Well, dinner sounds lovely.’

  ‘Good. How about I pick you up tomorrow night at seven?’

  Henny smiled. ‘It’s a date.’

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  ‘So what do you think, Dover?’ Henny asked as she looked around her shop. ‘Not bad, eh?’

  Dover looked up at her expectantly and wagged his tail.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes, it’s great,’ Henny grinned, giving him a pat. The newly painted walls looked fabulous, and with the sun streaming in from the high window the effect was almost ethereal. There was a small shelving unit and an old wooden table with barley twist legs that Henny had found on a second-hand expedition a couple of weeks back. It was battered but stable and Henny thought it gave some historic character.

  Dover wandered to the tiny kitchenette at the back of the shop where there was a bowl of food waiting for him. Maybe he wasn’t so excited about how the shop was shaping up after all.

  Henny had spent the morning organising the opening. She’d talked to a couple of the local radio stations and had taken out ads in local papers around the region; she didn’t have a big advertising budget but was determined to make every cent count. Over the past month she’d also set up her social-media presence and created a website. She’d even had a chat to Charlie about The Wren doing some catering on the day. As she’d always planned, Henny was launching her physical shop at The Matchbox first and then an online one through the shop’s website. She just prayed that the whole thing would work.

  A knock at the front door shook Henny from her thoughts.

  ‘Hi, kiddo,’ Aunt Janey said as she breezed in the door, a cardboard tray with two takeaway cups from The Wren and a white paper bag nestled between them in hand. ‘I saw your car parked out the back and thought it must be time for coffee.’

  ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re brilliant?’ Henny said with a smile.

  ‘Not as often as they should,’ she replied with a wink. ‘So how’s everything shaping up?’

  ‘Good. We’re on schedule for the June opening—although I probably shouldn’t say that in case I jinx it.’

  ‘Bah, don’t be so superstitious. Here, have a cappuccino and pastry.’ Janey handed her a cup as she took in the shop. ‘It’s looking good—it’ll be sensational when all of your mum’s pictures are in here.’

  Henny nodded. ‘Yes, it will.’

  ‘And it’s going to be a raging success,’ Janey added.

  ‘Well, I hope—’

  Aunt Henny waved her hand. ‘None of that self-doubt and second-guessing yourself. It’s going to be a raging success. Say it with me, with conviction.’

  Henny let out a laugh. ‘Oh alright—it’s going to be a raging success.’

  ‘Very good. I almost believed you.’

  Henny crossed the room and grabbed an old wooden chair, setting it down next to Janey. ‘There you go.’

  ‘Thanks. What a good girl you are looking after decrepit old me.’

  ‘Hardly,’ Henny replied with a chuckle as she sat on the table and swung her legs. ‘Aunt Janey, I’ve got something to tell you.’

  ‘You know, you make a habit of that.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Starting conversations in a dramatic manner—I love it.’

  ‘Will you stop teasing?’ Henny said.

  ‘Oh alright,’ Janey said, taking a sip of her coffee. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I’ve been think about what happened at the res.’

  ‘With poor Harley?’

  ‘Yes, but also back further. You know that Mark Russo was the last one found, and that he was pretty beaten up.’

  Aunt Janey nodded. ‘That’s common knowledge. It must have been a nightmare for his family.’

  ‘I’m sure it was. I talked to his brother, Nick, the other day. Did you know that Mark was such an accomplished swimmer that he’d won trophies for it?’

  ‘I didn’t. What are you getting at, Henny?’ Aunt Janey asked with a frown.

  ‘Well, I think we’re all missing something. I know this might sound nuts but what if Mark didn’t get hurt from the platform collapse, but from something else?’

  ‘I’d say that you sound like some kind of conspiracy theorist and I don’t see why it is important. Whatever put this idea into your head?’

  ‘Oh, a few things that might be something, or nothing. It started with the fact that everything about Harley’s death doesn’t add up for me. He was frightened of the res and thought the place was cursed. So why would he go out there in the middle of the night? He had no business being there, and I don’t believe he was suicidal either. He loved his dog and he would never have left him. He’d even ordered an expensive collar from Mia and that doesn’t sound like a guy planning to top himself, does it?’

  ‘Well, people are complicated, dear.’

  Henny shook her head and looked at Aunt Janey. ‘No matter what they say, I can’t believe that he did it deliberately, can you?’

  ‘No, I have to say that I find t
he idea hard to swallow, but then I guess I didn’t know him as well as some. For his parents’ sake I’m glad the official ruling was accidental. I don’t think his mum could have taken much more.’

  ‘But that’s just it: I don’t think it was an accident. I think Harley knew something and someone wanted him to be silenced.’

  Janey blinked as she gave Henny a sceptical look. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘That something other than the drowning happened the night the platform collapsed. Harley knew what it was and he was killed to keep the secret safe. I know this all probably sounds crazy and I could be wrong, but Mark Russo’s name also keeps coming to mind. What if he had a dark secret and Harley knew it?’

  ‘You’re right, the whole thing does sound crazy, kiddo. But let me play devil’s advocate here: if Harley did know something about that night, why wait all this time to kill the poor boy?’

  ‘Because Harley was warning me and that made the killer nervous.’

  ‘I’m still not at all convinced,’ Aunt Janey said carefully, ‘but let’s just say you’re right. Isn’t digging into all this putting you in harm’s way?’

  ‘Maybe, but I think I owe it to my friends who died to find out what really happened, don’t you?’

  ***

  Henny had chosen a simple black dress paired with black heels and a trench coat. For a touch of colour she added a scarf in autumnal colours. The look of appreciation in Stephen’s eyes when he picked her up told Henny that the little effort had been worth it.

  They’d driven up to a new Italian restaurant in Bendigo that had just opened across from the Alexandra Fountain in the city’s busiest intersection. Sitting inside the front window of the restaurant, Henny’s gaze kept wandering back to the fountain, an amazingly ornate piece of late Victorian architecture made of granite, painted stone and cast iron. Illuminated by four large cast-iron lamps, the water sparkled as it poured from its many spouts past female figures and bronze horses and dolphins.

  The food was great and the aroma of garlic, basil and tomato permeated the air, wrapping around her like a comforting hug. If the food was good then the company was even better, but still Henny caught herself thinking about her meeting with old Mr Russo, Mark and Nick’s great-uncle.

  ‘You seem a little distracted tonight,’ Stephen said. ‘How’s the cannelloni?’

  ‘It’s delicious. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be miles away,’ Henny said. ‘The fountain looks pretty tonight.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess it does. It’s funny how you can drive past something most of your life and not really see it. I haven’t really paid that much attention to it before.’

  ‘How was the movie last night?’ Henny asked.

  ‘It was good,’ Stephen said with a shrug. ‘Actually, it was average. I enjoyed it but I can’t see what all the hype was about.’

  ‘Did Dan like it?’

  ‘I think so, but he seemed a bit distracted too,’ Stephen replied. ‘I can’t help feeling there’s something wrong and he feels that he can’t tell me, which I don’t understand as we’ve been friends since we were kids.’

  ‘I guess everyone has their secrets. Maybe he’ll tell you when he’s ready,’ Henny said as she reached for her white wine. ‘Does Dan have family he can talk to?’

  ‘Not anymore. His parents are both dead now, and he’s an only child. His dad actually died when he was about fifteen.’

  ‘That must have been hard.’

  ‘Maybe, in some aspects, but generally no. Dan’s dad was a mean-spirited alcoholic, a bully who liked to lay into his wife and son. He was bloody scary, to be honest, a solid guy with meaty hands. He used to taunt Dan publicly about not being man enough. I was only allowed around to Dan’s when it was certain his old man was still at work.’

  ‘He sounds like a monster,’ Henny said quietly.

  ‘He was. I don’t think either Dan or his mum grieved too long when he passed on.’

  ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘Drunken brawl.’

  ‘Poor Dan—yes, I remember that now. It must have been hard growing up.’

  As they finished their dinner then lingered over coffee, the mood lifted and Henny no longer wanted to think about the darkness and problems of the past—at least not for tonight. Leaving the restaurant hand in hand, Henny went to turn left to where the car was parked but Stephen stood still.

  ‘What’s up? The car’s this way,’ Henny said with a smile.

  ‘I know, but I thought that maybe we should take a look at the fountain. Want to show me?’

  Henny stepped back into his waiting arms. ‘Sure, why not? Although as it’s on an island surrounded by multiple lanes of traffic, I’m not sure how romantic this interlude might be.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m here with a beautiful woman, the moon’s shining and the fountain is pretty—it could work,’ Stephen chuckled as they walked over to the pedestrian crossing.

  The fountain was even more impressive up close. Staring up at one of the female statues and wondering who she was, the watery mist washed over Henny’s face as it was caught by the cool night wind. Stephen dipped his head and kissed her, his mouth warm in contrast to the mist; she could still taste a hint of coffee on his lips. Henny angled her body and wrapped her arms around his waist, the heat of his body warming her.

  ‘Get a room!’ came a shout from a passing car, shattering anything vaguely romantic in the moment.

  Henny and Stephen pulled back.

  ‘It’s not a bad idea,’ Henny said with a wink.

  Stephen laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’

  ‘Just a sec,’ Henny said as she opened her handbag and pulled out her change purse. After a moment she withdrew a shiny gold dollar coin and flicked it into the fountain.

  ‘What was that for?’ Stephen asked.

  ‘Just making a wish.’

  They turned and began to make their way to the car.

  ‘What did you wish for?’ Stephen asked.

  Henny looked up and gave him a smile. ‘Can’t tell you—it won’t come true if I do.’

  ***

  They were almost back to Lawson’s Bend when Stephen said, ‘So, shall I drop you home or . . .’

  Henny glanced over at him. ‘Or?’

  ‘Well, I know a place that serves pretty good coffee.’

  Henny laughed and reached over to place a hand on his arm. ‘Let’s do that. I could do with one more coffee.’

  Stephen took Henny by the hand when they pulled up outside the barn; his own hand was warm and the sensation sent tingles up her arm. Henny stopped for a moment and stared up at the clear night sky, a multitude of stars glittering in its darkness.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  Henny nodded. ‘Yes, just admiring these country skies.’

  ‘I can take you home if you want,’ Stephen said.

  ‘No, this is where I want to be,’ she said as she squeezed his hand and led him to the door.

  They went upstairs and for a moment stood looking at each other. Henny felt she was standing on the edge of a precipice, one more step and she’d fall and nothing would ever be the same.

  He reached for her and Henny didn’t hesitate. She’d been waiting for this, wanting it. Henny had been in denial from when she and Stephen had met at the memorial all the way back at the end of summer, but the feeling had been there, building in the darkness. He’d been there for her when she had been a girl on that terrible night and he was here for her now. And that was a rare thing.

  Deep down Henny knew that he loved her; ever since the party at Killop Reservoir some part of her had known that. But this was different. It was deeper and all the more intangible from the look in his eyes and all the things he didn’t say.

  Her hand trembled as she took a step forward and laid it on the side of his face.

  ‘Henny,’ Stephen whispered, ‘are you sure this is what you want?’

  She nodded. ‘Positive. We’ve always
been heading towards this. It just took me a while to realise that.’

  They came together in a rush and the past and present appeared to meld. Henny felt the passion of his kiss, and the sparks that had been building ignited into a blaze. And underlying it all was a deep sense of this being right, as if this was where she was always meant to be.

  Without warning Stephen scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom. Henny almost giggled but then she looked into his eyes and sobered. He was looking at her in such a way that it touched her heart—he loved her, really loved her, and it was amazing and terrifying at the same moment. There was a tiny part of her that wanted to run, default back to her old ways, but she didn’t. Instead Henny wrapped her arm around his neck and laid her head against his chest. No one had ever looked at her like that.

  He set her down by the foot of the bed and for a moment there was a pause, a breath before they fell back into each other’s arms. Henny felt the heat begin to rise and for once she set it free. All the feelings for Stephen that she had squashed down and repressed she now let loose, opening herself up completely to the possibilities of the future. With each kiss the heat was fanned and the waiting was over for both of them.

  Henny’s hands found their way under his shirt; his skin was hot to the touch, taut and silky. Her hands trailed down his back, across his chest and then lower, his stomach contracting as her fingers explored. She began to unbuckle his belt and then his jeans.

  Stephen’s eyes were closed as he said, ‘Last chance, Hen. There’s no coming back from this.’

  ‘I don’t want to come back, Stephen. I want to feel your body against mine—skin to skin.’

  Her words seemed to open a floodgate in Stephen. He bent down and kissed her hard. She met the kiss with a mirrored ferocity; there’d be no languid seduction, not this time. Within moments her coat lay on the floor, followed closely by her dress.

  Henny closed her eyes for a moment as Stephen’s hands trailed over her body, his touch making her want more. As he lowered her onto the bed he whispered in her ear, ‘You’re so beautiful, Henny. I can’t believe how beautiful you are.’ Then he blazed a path of kisses from her neck all the way down her body, lingering in places and making her catch her breath.