The McCalister Legacy Page 3

  ‘Thanks,’ Andrea said when Berry slid the book over the desk. As Andrea looked down, she stared at Berry’s name, and a frown flickered across her face.

  ‘Is there anything wrong?’

  Andrea glanced back at her. ‘No … sorry. I just made a connection, that’s all. Your surname, it’s familiar around these parts. But I’m sure you’ve got nothing to do with the story I was told when I first moved here.’

  Berry was quiet for a moment. She should have realised that her family would still be spoken of in town. It was only natural—people wouldn’t forget a murder–suicide, especially when it happened in such a small town like Harlington.

  ‘Actually, I daresay I am connected to that story you heard. I used to live here with my family when I was a kid. Our farm was down on Lyrebird Road—Stone Gully.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I should never have mentioned it,’ Andrea said quickly as her cheeks infused with colour. ‘There I go again, talking without thinking first.’

  Berry shook her head. ‘It’s all right, really. It was a long time ago. I’m actually here to check out the farm. My brother and sister and I need to work out what we should do with the place. I’ve just come from there, actually; it’s the first time I’ve been back in years. Anyway, I was going to stay at the farm, but the electricity isn’t on and it was a bit cold and dark and …’ Berry finished her sentence with a shrug.

  ‘You went out there by yourself?’

  Berry nodded.

  ‘Perhaps you needed to take someone with you—at least the first time?’

  ‘Maybe you’re right. I found it harder than I thought.’

  ‘Well, come on then, it’s high time you were by the fire. Go and warm up. Darby will keep you company and I’ll make a nice pot of tea.’

  It was almost dark when Berry’s phone rang. She was on the window seat, staring out at the rain-drenched courtyard, and had to dig the phone out of her pocket.

  ‘Hey Jess,’ she said.

  ‘Hi. I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay. Are you still at the house?’

  ‘No, that didn’t pan out. The electricity wasn’t on. And there was—well, still is—a storm, so the upshot was that it was pretty dark at the house and I couldn’t see anything.’

  ‘Oh, so where are you now?’

  ‘Cumquat Cottage B&B,’ Berry said. ‘I’m going to stay here for a few days. It’s nice and so is the woman who runs it.’

  ‘Does she know who you are?’

  ‘Yeah, seems we’re kind of famous. Andrea isn’t a local, she only moved here about three years ago but she already knew about what happened at the house.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s not surprising,’ Jess said.

  ‘I guess. Anyway, I’m going to head over to the pub and grab something to eat. Hopefully, tomorrow will be more productive.’

  ‘Okay. Have a good night, and give me a call tomorrow.’

  ‘Of course. Night.’

  Berry stared out the window for another minute before walking over and pulling out her quilted parka from her backpack. It was a dull olive green with faux fur around the hood. She put on the parka, grabbed her wallet and headed out the door. Despite the rain she felt refreshed as she walked the two blocks to The Queen’s Arms. The place was familiar, not because she remembered visiting it but rather as a landmark in the town.

  Berry pulled her hood up as she walked towards the pub, the wet footpath shining in the light of one of Harlington’s four street lamps. As she looked about, the town was deserted; even the lights of the service station across the road were turned off. There wasn’t another soul on the street, and after years of city life and bustle, it felt a bit creepy. She was used to crowds and noise and traffic, but here silence was the norm and it took a bit of getting used to. The only sign of life came from the pub. A handful of cars were parked outside, and as Berry neared, the sounds of voices, laughter and music wafted towards her. The warm glow of the pub’s interior lights spilled out and reflected in the puddles that had formed on the roadside. She paused for a moment as she reached the door and took a deep breath. She always radiated a sense of strength and determination, but mainly that was for her family. Ever since the loss of their parents, Berry had taken it upon herself to be strong, not just for Jess and Tom, but also for Uncle Dave. But she had moments when being the rock that everyone could lean on was too much, and her vulnerability came through. But she wouldn’t give into it, she couldn’t. The one thing the past had taught her was that you needed to be strong to survive and that was what she would continue to be. Taking another deep breath, she centred herself before yanking open the door.

  A wave of hot air hit Berry when she walked into the pub. She pushed back her hood and unzipped her jacket. Ahead of her was a small room filled with about a dozen tables and to her left was a large archway that led to the bar. Berry nodded to the four people at the nearest table before heading towards the back of the room. On one side of the old open fire was a table for two. Slinging her jacket over the back of the chair, Berry sat down and studied the limited menu. After a couple of minutes she made her way to the bar and ordered a lemon squash and the obligatory chicken parmigiana with salad.

  ‘Is that it, love?’ the elderly man behind the bar said. He had a thatch of white hair, red cheeks and more than a hint of a beer belly.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’

  ‘No worries. Just take a seat, love, and it won’t be long,’ he answered with a smile.

  As Berry turned to go back to her table she heard him shout out behind her, ‘One parma and salad!’ She wasn’t sure who he was shouting it to, as from her vantage point she could only see him and another old guy who was propping up the bar.

  Returning to her table, Berry was aware of several sets of eyes looking at her. A middle-aged man in particular from the table further down kept turning around and staring. Berry wasn’t sure if she should just ignore it or call him out, but she glanced back just in time to see him stand up and head her way. Berry groaned inwardly. All she wanted to do was eat her meal in peace and then turn in for an early night; the day had been emotionally draining enough without having to make chitchat with the locals.

  Berry momentarily toyed with the idea of running off and hiding in the loo but dismissed the thought; she might have been a child the last time she was in this town, but not anymore. So, she watched as the man with salt-and-pepper hair neared, and prepared to deflect his questions. But as he drew closer she was struck by something familiar about him, although as hard as she tried she couldn’t place what. He was dressed in a white shirt and jeans and he radiated a middle-aged dad vibe. But the main thing that struck her was that he had a kind face.

  He stopped in front of Berry and gave her a small smile. ‘Um, sorry to disturb you, but would you be Berry McCalister?’

  ‘Ah yes. I’m sorry, I don’t …’

  The man’s smile arced into a grin. ‘You know, I was sitting over there and I thought it was you. It’s wonderful to see you again,’ he said before looking back over his shoulder and calling to his friends. ‘I told you, Lynette—it’s Berry!’

  Berry frowned and felt suddenly like she was the last person to be let in on a joke.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember …’ Her voice trailed off.

  The man turned back and gave her another reassuring smile. ‘It’s all right, my dear. You don’t remember us, do you?’ he asked as a woman a similar age joined them. ‘It’s been a long time and you were only a kid.’

  ‘Um …’

  ‘Lynette and Jack Ford,’ he explained. ‘Jodie’s parents.’

  As everything fell into place, Berry stood up from the table and gave them a tight hug. These people had protected and comforted her on the worst day of her life.

  ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t recognise you,’ Berry said.

  ‘That’s okay, darling,’ Lynette said as she hugged Berry again. ‘You were very little last time you saw us. It’s so good to see you. Are Jess and littl
e Tommy with you as well?’

  ‘Not yet. They’ll be up in a few weeks.’

  ‘But they’re fine?’

  Berry nodded. ‘Oh yes, Jess is at uni and Tom’s in high school. They’re both doing really well.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ Jack said. ‘Come on and join us at our table.’

  ‘Thanks, as long as I’m not intruding.’ Berry’s wish for a solitary night suddenly seemed less important than reconnecting with this link from her childhood.

  ‘Of course not,’ Lynette said. ‘Come on, we’d love to have you.’

  ‘Georgie,’ Jack called out to the man behind the bar as they walked back to their table. ‘Berry is joining our table, so send her dinner there.’

  ‘Righty-oh,’ the barman called back.

  ‘Good,’ Jack said as he ushered Berry to a spare seat. ‘This is Sarah and Bill Higgins. You might remember their son, James. He was in the same grade as you.’

  Berry had to think for a second but she made the connection. ‘Yes, I remember James from school,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’

  The couple smiled, making Berry instantly feel at ease.

  ‘So, how is Jodie?’ she asked. ‘I feel so bad that we lost contact once I moved away.

  ‘Oh, she’s fine. She’s up at uni in Bendigo at the moment. She took a while to settle on a path but that’s okay, not everyone knows what they want to do after they leave school,’ Jack explained.

  But before he could expand, Lynette broke in. ‘You shouldn’t worry about losing contact. Those sort of things happen all the time, especially when someone moves away. Besides, I bet once you and Jodie catch up it will be just like you were never apart.’

  ‘She’s still the same?’ Berry asked with a smile. ‘I seem to remember us always getting into trouble.’

  ‘Well, Jodie would say that was all on you,’ Jack said with a laugh.

  Berry shook her head. ‘Oh, I think she’s got that one backwards. She was always the instigator, I just followed along.’

  Lynette giggled. ‘Well, I guess you’ll be able to fight that one out once you meet up.’

  ‘So, what’ve you been up to and what brings you back to Harlington?’ Jack asked.

  ‘I finished uni last year and I took the beginning of the year to try and work out what I want to do. I’ve been waitressing while I figure it out. Now I’m here to check out Stone Gully Farm. Jess, Tom and I have to figure out what we’re going to do with the place,’ Berry answered. ‘We’re not sure if we should keep it, sell it or rent it out. The only thing we all agree on is that it seems a waste to leave the house standing empty.’

  ‘Well, let us know if there’s anything we can do to help,’ Lynette said.

  ‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’

  ‘Nonsense, we’re more than happy to help,’ Jack said before he tapped his glass with a knife. ‘I’d like to make a toast,’ he said.

  Everyone raised their glasses and waited for Jack to speak.

  ‘Whether or not you choose to stay, I’d just like to say Harlington has missed you. Welcome home, Berry—welcome home.’

  Chapter Four

  Doherty’s Farm, 1906

  Edward Doherty was sitting in his mother’s garden by the vegetable patch. His mother was busy hanging out the washing not far away. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her pegging out a white sheet, the sunlight almost blinding as it reflected off the material.

  The day was hot and the back of his neck was sticky—he’d wanted to go with his brothers to the dam for a swim but their mam was in the middle of being talked out of it. It wasn’t fair that his brothers were always off doing that sort of thing. Was it his fault that he was only six and couldn’t run as fast as Gabe and Samuel? Sometimes they let him tag along, but more often than not they shooed him away like a pest.

  ‘Aw, Mam, Neddy can’t swim yet. We’d have to watch him like a hawk,’ Samuel had said. ‘Besides, we can only go for a quick dip because I promised Da I’d help him fix the fence in the far paddock.’

  Their mother straightened up from the washing trough and placed her damp hands on her hips. ‘Maybe you should have thought of that earlier.’

  ‘Please, Mam, can’t he stay here? Promise we’ll take him next time,’ Gabe said with an encouraging smile. ‘And Sam’s right—Da will be back from town soon and he’ll expect us to crack on with the fence.’

  ‘I’ll pull up a bucket of water from the well so Neddy can cool off without getting into trouble,’ Sam bargained as he gave him a fleeting glance. ‘He can water the beans—you’d like to do that wouldn’t you, Neddy?’

  Sam didn’t wait for a reply but rather turned around and gave Gabe a nod. As if on cue, Gabe squatted down in front of Neddy.

  ‘Come on, Neddy, let’s go and get the water,’ Gabe said, holding out his hand as he stood up.

  Neddy waited next to his big brothers as they pulled up the water from the well and filled an old metal tub, before carrying it back and placing it near the veggie patch.

  ‘There you are—now you can water all the beans,’ Sam said with an encouraging smile.

  Neddy picked up the cracked willow-pattern teacup and dipped it into the tub, the water cold on his fingers. He smiled up at Sam and let out a giggle.

  ‘Now, you water them beans well, ’cause I’ll check when we get back,’ Gabe said.

  Neddy filled the cup and carefully tipped the contents over the plants. He was so intent on what he was doing that for a moment or two he forgot about swimming in the dam. He repeated the task a couple of times, but when he looked up to get some sort of encouragement from his brothers he realised they had disappeared.

  With a sigh he put down the cup and looked towards the gate. Outside the fenced cottage garden, the Dohertys’ farm consisted of a couple of large paddocks that swept gently downhill towards a large dam. Even in the height of summer the water never dried up.

  The cottage was just out of Harlington and sat on a dusty track over a rise of a hill. The family owned a few acres between the small creek and the track. Unlike the majority of families in the area, they weren’t farmers. Instead, Neddy’s father, James, was a carpenter who occasionally picked up labouring jobs on the side to make ends meet. They still kept a few animals—a handful of chickens, a couple of goats and a cow—but that was for the family’s needs rather than any commercial pursuit. They didn’t have much, but neither did most of the folk around here.

  Grandfather had built the four-room wooden cottage when he’d settled here from Ireland as a young man. Over the years Da had added a laundry with a small copper in the back garden and a sleep-out just outside the back door—that’s where Neddy and his brothers slept. There were more impressive houses in Harlington, but none of them were as nice as the little whitewashed cottage on the hill.

  Neddy turned his head towards the open door as the sound of little Rosie crying wafted over on the summer breeze. He stood up and started towards the cottage; he was her big brother, after all, and even if his brothers thought him a nuisance he would never act that way with Rosie. She couldn’t help it if she cried a lot and was close to bald. A frown flicked across his face. He hoped her hair would grow quickly, then maybe she’d be almost pretty.

  Neddy was about to step up onto the slate front step when his mother’s voice came from behind.

  ‘You can keep playing, if you like,’ she said as she carried the empty laundry basket towards the door. ‘Our Rose probably wants feeding anyway. Why don’t you keep watering the garden and watch for Da to come home?’

  Neddy nodded, but Mam had already disappeared into the cottage to tend to the baby. He went back to the tub of water and for the next few minutes made a half-hearted attempt to water the plants, although there was a possibility that he managed to drop more water on himself than the beans. After a while he realised that Rosie had stopped crying and there was a peaceful lull over the garden except for the occasional song from a bird in the crab-apple tree and the faint r
ustle of leaves. The sun was warm on Neddy’s back and made him a little sleepy—that was until a movement by the gate caught his attention.

  Neddy looked cautiously over towards the wooden fence, then edged closer until, through the slats, he could see the long ears and the soft brown fur of a rabbit. He glanced over his shoulder to see if his Mam was there—she wasn’t, which was probably just as well, as she was partial to putting rabbits into pies. Neddy would much prefer to play with them. She called them nothing but pests that kept trying to eat her garden, but Neddy thought they looked soft and cute and he had always wanted one for a pet. He took a few steps forwards as quietly as he could. The rabbit didn’t move.

  Hopeful, Neddy took another step and then one more. The rabbit nibbled on some half-dry grass and ignored him. The summer had been hot and a lot of the grass had dried up and died, except by the fenced cottage garden. Because they had a well, Mam had made sure that most of her vegetables, fruit trees and even her one rose had enough water to flourish.

  Encouraged, Neddy crept all the way to the gate. The rabbit, intent on eating, still disregarded him; perhaps he was too small to be considered a threat. He watched the rabbit and smiled, and after a moment’s hesitation he slowly opened the gate and slipped through. At the soft creak of the gate’s hinges the rabbit took a couple of slow hops towards the dusty track, and Neddy followed.

  Chapter Five

  The sun was shining when Berry rose early the next morning. Perhaps it was the change in the weather or her chance meeting with the Fords last night; whatever the reason, Berry felt ready to take on Stone Gully.

  Yesterday, Berry had expected memories to resurface as soon as she walked in the door of her childhood home, but not that they would almost bowl her over. In the past few years she had told herself that she had come to terms with the death of her parents and her grandparents. It was a terrible, life-shattering event that had changed how she saw the world and her sense of belonging. But it was in the past and Berry now had two options—either deal with it or let the tragedy define her entire life. She chose the former. It was what it was, and no amount of thinking about what had happened to her family would change the outcome.