Lawson's Bend Page 8

  ‘Nearly done, I think,’ he whispered with a wink.

  Henny looked over the rows of seats and saw a group of familiar faces, people she used to go to school with. As she studied them, Dan caught her eye and gave her a nod.

  ‘Right, well then it’s time to unveil the wonderful sculpture that was created by one of our talented local artists, Milly Gardener,’ the mayor said. ‘Would you join me, Milly?’

  A young woman with long, straight black hair tipped with magenta stepped forward. She had pale eyes, perfectly winged eyeliner and a dress that matched the tips of her hair.

  ‘It’s Mia, not Milly,’ she said into the microphone as she joined the mayor. ‘Mia Gardener.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said with a frown as he looked down and shuffled through the note cards in his hand. ‘Mia Gardener, everyone.’

  This was followed by a light round of applause and a few snickers emanating from Dan’s general direction.

  The mayor stepped off the stage and walked a few steps towards Henny, stopping in front of a large cloth-covered shape. Taking the attached red rope in his hand, he paused for a moment or two so a photographer could get some shots, pulling Mia Gardener in for the last shot as an afterthought. With a flourish he then pulled the cord and the covering fell away to reveal a modernist, gender-neutral figure in bronze, positioned as though it was staring across the water with its arms outstretched. It rose out of a sculpted tree trunk like a dryad, and there was bronze foliage at its feet that extended up the trunk and even spread over the marble plinth on which the statue stood, giving the impression of organic, free-flowing movement.

  Henny sucked in a breath. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  Stephen was quiet for a second before adding, ‘Yeah, I guess it is.’

  A swift round of applause echoed Henny’s approval. The ceremony may have been off the mark but the sculpture was fitting, peaceful and somehow comforting. The sound of chairs shifting signalled the end of the service and the audience started to move, some towards the statue, some into small groups and others to the trestle tables where tea and coffee were being provided.

  Henny turned and smiled at Stephen. ‘It’s perfect—Mia is a very talented artist.’

  ‘She is, and really nice too. I’ll introduce you. I’m sure you’ll like her.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Stephen took her hand again and for the second time Henny let him. They wove their way past a few people until they were standing in front of Mia.

  ‘Hey, Mia,’ Stephen said. ‘I thought I’d introduce you to Henny—Henrietta Bolton.’

  Mia leant forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek before smiling at Henny and extending her hand. ‘Hello, it’s lovely to meet you. You’re opening a gallery, aren’t you?’

  ‘Wow, news travels fast but yes, that’s right,’ she said after wriggling her hand from Stephen to take Mia’s. ‘Although it’s probably a little too small to be called a gallery! I have to say that your sculpture is amazing—you should be so proud.’

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ Mia replied, her cheeks colouring a little.

  ‘No, I mean it. When I heard that they were putting up a memorial I have to admit I had my doubts. But what you’ve done is wonderful. You’ve managed to capture a feeling that’s hard to describe, yet it’s perfect.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Mia said with a warm smile. ‘That means a lot. So when will you be opening your gallery?’

  ‘I’m still in the early stages but if all goes well, hopefully sometime this winter.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing it.’

  ‘I’d love to get together sometime and discuss if you’d be willing to put some of your pieces in the shop. Are they all that big?’ Henny said with a grin, gesturing towards the statue.

  ‘No, not all of them. And I’d love to have a chat,’ Mia said as she reached into her bag and pulled out a business card. ‘When you’re ready, give me a call.’

  ‘Thanks, I will.’ Henny was about to say that it was nice to meet her when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Turning around she saw Charlie Nichols. She hadn’t changed, except maybe her hair was a smidgeon longer.

  ‘Hey, Henny, it’s good to see you,’ she said as she gave Henny a hug. ‘I’ve missed you the couple of times you’ve come into The Wren.’

  ‘It’s good to see you too, Charlie,’ Henny said as she hugged her back. Tears misted her eyes—maybe it was the culmination of reasons why they were at Killop Reservoir, being part of a shared tragedy, or perhaps Henny had finally acknowledged that she missed the friends she’d grown up with. Henny stepped back and looked at Charlie. ‘You don’t look any different.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Charlie said with a laugh. ‘Hey, you remember Leon, Gemma and Mikey?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ Henny said as she came forward and gave each of them a hug. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  ‘It’s not the place I’d choose for all of us to meet up but here we are,’ Leon Chang said.

  ‘Yes, here we are,’ Henny agreed.

  Another small group of people broke away from the crowd and walked towards Henny and the others. It took her a couple of seconds to recognise them as more people she’d grown up with.

  ‘Hey,’ Kris Larsen said. ‘Long time no see.’

  Stephen stepped forward and gave him a hug. ‘Geez, I haven’t seen you in years.’

  ‘Yep, I’ve been in Melbourne for quite a while. Leon got in touch to let me know this was on and I rounded up a couple of others.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you all made it.’

  ‘Me too—hey, Henny, good to see you,’ Kris said.

  Henny gave him a hug before the group drifted away from the rest of the crowd and walked down to the water’s edge. They stopped, standing in silence as they looked out across the water to where the swimming platform had been. Individual memories of that terrible night flooded their minds but they stood together, some leaning against each other while others held hands in support.

  For Henny, the noise of the crowd faded into the distance and for a moment she was once again standing with her friends on the bank as the cries for help assaulted her ears. She closed her eyes to shut them out and when she opened them again Stephen was looking down at her.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  She nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s just sometimes you remember things that you don’t want to.’

  ‘You’re not alone there, Hen—we all do. And today of all days is going to do that. For the first time in a decade we’re all here, where it happened. There’d be something wrong with us if we didn’t think about it.’

  ‘I guess you’re right. I—’

  ‘Can everyone look over here?’ came a loud voice.

  Instinctively everyone turned and looked in the direction of the voice.

  The rapid click of a camera shutter filled the air.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, bugger off, Martin,’ Dan called out as the photographer kept taking pictures.

  ‘I’m just doing my job, and I’m not the only one,’ George Martin said as he looked up from his camera and gestured to the film crew interviewing the mayor over by the sculpture.

  ‘Can’t you just give us all a minute in peace?’ Charlie complained. ‘I mean, is that too much to ask? We’ve only just met each other again and you come along and ruin it.’

  ‘Come on, Charlie—all’s fair in love and news reporting,’ George called back with a grin. He flicked a long fringe out of his eyes and seemed to pose beside his camera.

  Henny remembered George Martin from school. He’d been the year beneath her and basically obnoxious. Looks like time didn’t change all things.

  ‘Piss off, George, or you’ll be wearing that pretty camera of yours.’

  Henny stiffened when she heard the voice. She glanced sideways to see her ex-boyfriend, the guy who broke her seventeen-year-old heart, Ethan Hamilton. She supposed that he hadn’t changed that much, maybe bulked out a bit, but he was still tall, dark-haired and handsome. Henny took a shallow breath
and told herself to stay calm—he’d acted like a jerk in the past but he’d no doubt grown up just like everyone else.

  Ethan shooed Martin off before coming over and standing in front of Henny.

  ‘Hi, Henny. Sorry to hear about your mum,’ he said. ‘I liked her and she always had time for everyone.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Heard you’re staying in town. Is that true?’

  ‘Yes, I’m opening a shop in The Matchbox, actually.’

  ‘Maybe we should catch up sometime,’ he said with a wink.

  Stephen seemed to tense by Henny’s side. ‘Um, maybe, Ethan—nice to see you again,’ she replied with a slight smile before she caught Charlie rolling her eyes behind his back.

  ‘Look, I don’t know about you guys but I think it’s time to get out of here,’ Dan said. ‘Unless you want to be on the local news tonight.’

  Henny followed his gaze and saw that the film crew and reporter appeared to be heading their way.

  ‘Yeah, I think it’s time we left,’ Stephen said. ‘I’d rather remember our friends without being watched, how about you? Why don’t we all go to The White Stag and grab a drink?’ ‘Sounds good,’ Henny said. ‘I’d like that.’ The rest of the group murmured in agreement.

  ‘Great, we have a plan—come on, we’re outta here,’ Dan said as he waved his arm to get everyone moving.

  Henny followed Stephen and bit back a smile as they walked past a vexed-looking reporter.

  ‘Hey, Henny, if you want to drink, I’ll drive if you like,’ Stephen said as they made their way over to the car park.

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘Not really feeling like it today so I don’t mind,’ he answered. ‘I can follow you back to your place so you can drop off your car if you want.’

  Henny was about to say that she’d be right but as she neared her car she changed her mind. Why not go out and catch up with her friends and throw back a couple of drinks? ‘Actually, Stephen, that would be great, if you really don’t mind playing chauffeur.’

  ‘Happy to. Shall we?’

  Henny smiled as she opened the door of her car. ‘Okay, I’ll see you at my place,’ she said before slipping into the driver’s seat. She glanced in the rear-view mirror and noted that Stephen was smiling too as he got in his car to follow her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlie

  Killop Reservoir, 2 February 2008

  Charlie stood on the bank of the res and looked out into the churning water. Everything was dark except for a pool of light cast on the bank and shallows by two large lamps near the toilets and barbeques. The fear and panic in the air was almost tangible. A loud cracking sound had brought Charlie down from the barbecue area, then the screams had made her break into a run. She didn’t know for sure but she guessed that the swimming platform must have collapsed. People were running, some into the water to help. A group of girls started to cry as the calls for help got louder.

  What help were tears? Charlie thought as she turned to the girls. ‘One of you call triple-O. Tell them that we need an ambulance out here.’ Walking forward to the water’s edge, she took a breath to steady herself before wading out. It was fortunate that she was in her swimsuit, because in her desperate need to help, she didn’t spare a thought for her own safety. As the water deepened she started to swim and she could see the water swirling ahead of her. She was heading towards the heart of the mayhem but as she turned her head to take a breath she saw a blond head sinking beneath the surface. Changing direction, Charlie swam as fast as she could. The head broke the waterline, dragged in a breath and started sinking again, but this time Charlie grabbed him and brought him up. All those years of swimming lessons were paying off. It was Mikey Lawson, the youngest class member, affectionately known as ‘the Baby’.

  ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you.’

  ‘Charlie, thank God,’ he spluttered.

  ‘Can you swim?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he gasped. ‘I got pulled under and I panicked.’

  ‘It’s alright, take a breath and we’re going to swim back to the shore together, okay?’

  It took a few minutes but pretty soon Charlie and Mikey waded out of the water.

  She found a towel nearby and wrapped it around him as he collapsed onto the bank. ‘Thanks, Charlie,’ he managed weakly.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said, giving him a quick hug as she looked around at the scene of mayhem.

  ‘I called them, Charlie, they’re all coming—ambulance and the police,’ one girl called out.

  ‘And your dad,’ called another. ‘You wanted me to call him, didn’t you?’

  ‘Good. And yes, Alison, thanks. Can you guys find as many towels as you can? People are going to be cold and in shock. And can one of you keep an eye on Mikey?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ came the reply. Now with a purpose, the tears were forgotten.

  Charlie ran a hand through her short dark hair before starting back out into the water. But as she got to her knees, there were shouts from further down the bank.

  ‘Charlie! Charlie, you’ve got to help!’ It seemed that once you start taking control, everyone starts to rely on you. She turned to see a couple of guys dragging an unconscious body between them.

  ‘Please, Charlie! It’s Toby McGinty and he’s not breathing. Jesus, Charlie—he’s not breathing!’

  And Charlie once again started running.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tradition and history played a big part in the fabric of Lawson’s Bend and one of its cornerstones was The White Stag. The oldest surviving pub was a large stone two-storey building with a wide verandah that was draped with grapevines. It sported a bar, a restaurant and the best beer garden in the area.

  Walking through the front door, Henny thought that the place still looked the same. She smiled as she remembered when her mum had taken her there for dinner a week after she’d turned eighteen. A huge painting of a white stag standing in a Scottish glen still hung on the wall above the fireplace, a nod not only to the name of the pub but also the family that had always run it. Rumour had it that the painting had been there ever since the place had opened and that it was bad luck to take it down.

  The publican called out from behind the bar. ‘Hey, Stephen—if you’re looking for the others, they’re out the back in the garden.’

  ‘Thanks, Mark,’ Stephen said as he guided Henny through the packed bar. ‘Looks like a busy day.’

  ‘Sure does,’ he replied with a grin. ‘Just the way I like it. Glad you’re back, Henny.’

  Henny gave him a grin and a wave before she and Stephen made their way to the French doors that opened off the restaurant and into the garden. They spotted their friends sitting at a long table beneath a metal canopy also covered in lush grapevines. Henny smiled as Charlie stood and waved at them with both hands. It was good that some things never changed, like Charlie’s exuberance.

  ‘Hey, what happened to you two?’ Dan called out with a not-so-subtle wink.

  Stephen rolled his eyes as he pulled up a chair across the table. ‘Shut up, Dan. I’m not drinking today so I offered to drive Hen.’

  ‘What, not even one?’ Dan asked with disbelief.

  ‘Not even one—just don’t feel like it.’

  Dan picked up his beer and took a mouthful. ‘Whatever—better you than me.’

  Henny took a seat between Charlie and Stephen.

  Charlie gave her another hug. ‘I’m so happy to see you again. I swear the place hasn’t been the same without you.’

  ‘I missed you too. I’m sorry I didn’t keep in contact—that was wrong.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, we’re friends and I understand. Besides, you’re here now and that’s all that counts,’ Charlie said with a smile. ‘So I hear from your aunt that you’re opening a gallery, is that right?’

  ‘Sure is. It’s in The Matchbox, so it’s going to be a very small gallery,’ Henny said with a laugh.

  ‘That’s great! You’ll be using your mu
m’s artwork, I suppose? She was such a talented artist. I’m really sorry about what happened, I should have said something earlier back at the memorial but . . .’

  ‘It’s alright, the last thing Mum would have wanted was for people to feel awkward and sad at the mention of her name. She wasn’t that sort of person and we have to remember that,’ Henny replied with a small smile. ‘But yes, I am using her work as a basis for the shop. She was prolific, so I’ll have a couple of her paintings for sale but most of the stock will be prints of her work and cards. I also want to stock some other small bits and pieces.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I’m not totally sure yet but I was thinking about scarves, a little jewellery and perhaps some interesting pieces from overseas. I’d also like to source some locally made things. I was talking to Mia at the memorial and she seemed interested, so I’ll have to have another chat with her,’ Henny replied. ‘Hang on, I think I should get a drink—do you want anything?’

  But before Henny had a chance to stand up, Stephen put his hand on her arm. ‘I’ll get it.’

  Henny was a bit startled as she was under the impression that he was deep in conversation with Dan, Ethan and Leon and was surprised that he’d even heard her.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course, what do you want?’ Stephen asked.

  ‘Um, a white wine, thanks.’

  ‘How about you, Charlie?’

  ‘Thanks, Stephen, but I’m good,’ she said, cradling a glass in her hand.

  ‘Not a problem, back in a minute,’ he said, standing up and walking back inside.

  Henny turned back to Charlie and was met with a look. ‘So what’s that all about?’ Charlie asked.

  Henny shrugged. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘No seriously, I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Henny protested.

  Charlie gave her another look before continuing. ‘Some things have changed since you left, at times for the better, but occasionally you’ll find something that never budges, and I think Stephen’s like that.’