Lou was sitting in a corner of the function room, not yet ready to head back to the Welcome Inn. The signing of the paperwork after the meeting had been almost an anti-climax after the wild build-up. Mitch had helped them clear away all the chairs, the trestles and the lectern, so she was sitting in a slightly damp patch of carpet. You could never be completely sure as the origin of such a patch in the Queen’s Arms, but Lou hoped like hell it was just beer. Either way, she was too tired, and too heartsick, to care. Or move.
She just sat, staring at a patch of carpet, and wondering how a seemingly innocent idea – go back for the school reunion; support Sharni the way Sharni had always supported her – could go so wrong. It had been such a disastrous mudslide of events that Lou wondered if maybe there had been more at play when she decided to go than she was willing to acknowledge. After all, why, after twenty years of avoidance, had she said yes? Was it the whole anniversary thing? Was she maybe looking for more than simply offering some support to Sharni? She racked her brain, trying to figure it out.
Whatever the reason, it had been a bad decision.
She thought about Piper’s words about Skye: Gage would say she had a track record of bad decisions. Maybe Lou was more like her mother than she wanted to believe. Then her mind strayed to the good Dr O’Brien, stoically keeping her company during her father’s public savaging. She thought about the things Martha had said before the meeting started. Sometimes we just gotta let go. Accept that it is what it is. And we’re here. We’re alive. We survived. And we’re gonna be okay.
Is that what she was here for? To learn to let it go? Is that why the universe had made her make this mad decision to return, just as her mother was diagnosed with cancer, her father was in deep shit, and Gage was – well, what he always was. Sexy. Delicious. Unattainable.
And if she was supposed to learn to let it go, how come she was cast in the role of chief fixer? How come she’d had to sort the police, the insurance company, the council and the rest of it? How the hell was that letting go?
A pair of feet appeared on the patch of carpet Lou had been studying. They were shod in women’s cowboy boots. Sharni. Thank God.
But Sharni was wearing her red boots tonight, which these weren’t. As Lou’s eyes moved upwards, she saw it was Piper. Lou wiped her nose in a most unladylike fashion and scrambled to her feet. Had she somehow conjured up this girl by thinking about her a moment ago? Lou’s heart raced. She wasn’t sure she had the stomach for another confrontation tonight.
But Piper didn’t look mad. Her hair was still scraped high in the grown-up bun, but a few tendrils had made a break for freedom and curled lightly around her face. She wore a small, sad smile and was fiddling with her handbag. As usual, she didn’t bother with the business of formality.
‘Why didn’t you say goodbye?’
In return, Lou couldn’t spin her some line. ‘I just had to go,’ she said, wanting to reach out for Piper’s hand and squeeze it the way Martha had squeezed hers earlier in the evening. For comfort, or understanding, or something.
Piper nodded, looking so grown-up and accepting that Lou’s heart hurt to watch her. She knew. She knew how it felt to want to rely on someone and have them not make the grade. Lou hated that she was being that person for Piper. ‘Because of my dad?’
‘No – I mean, I –’ Lou stopped, realising this wasn’t helping, and tried to formulate words in the right order so she could make sense of this for Piper, not make things worse. Finally, she shrugged. ‘We have some history,’ she admitted. ‘It’s –’
‘Complicated,’ Piper finished for her. ‘I know, he told me.’
‘He told you?’ Lou’s brain scrambled to keep up.
‘Relax,’ Piper said, laughing gently. ‘I meant he told me it was complicated.’
Lou nodded. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘That’s good.’ Then she paused, realising that didn’t sound very nice. ‘I mean, it’s good that …’ What the hell did she mean? It was her turn to laugh. ‘I’m just glad you guys are talking again.’
‘Me too,’ Piper said. Then she smiled, and this time it was completely genuine. ‘He was pretty amazing in there tonight, wasn’t he?’
Lou smiled, remembering. ‘He sure was. Is he okay?’
‘About the gas?’
Lou nodded, holding her breath.
‘I dunno,’ Piper said, shrugging. ‘He took off after the meeting, with a head full of heat. He asked Grandpa to take me home.’
Oh no, that didn’t sound good. ‘Any idea where he’s gone?’
‘Nah,’ Piper said, not seeming too concerned. ‘Maybe just to work it all off.’ She studied Lou’s face. ‘You’re worried, aren’t you?’ She squeezed Lou’s arm. ‘He’ll be right,’ she assured her, making Lou feel even worse. ‘He’s mad as hell, but he’ll get over it. I think.’
The ‘I think’ made Lou feel sick, but she tried not to show it. Hearing Gage up there tonight, she had finally realised what all of this meant to him. It wasn’t about the gas; it was about staying in control. He had worked so hard for so long to make Sunset Downs a success. He needed to be on top of everything. He resented the idea that anyone might come in and take that from him, in whatever small degree, and whoever it might be. Poor Gage. She just hoped he might see in time that he could work with the gas company. He might never know how close he had come to losing all he had worked for, and he might hate her for her part in it, but at least he would be safe. She knew now, really knew, how much his home meant to him, and the only comfort she had was that she had helped protect what he had worked for. If she had to sell out, at least this thirty pieces of silver was worth it.
Her father, safe.
Gage and Piper and Bo, safe.
Sunset Downs, safe.
She and her father had discussed the final elements of the deal with Tom Byford, the company man, after the meeting. He had seemed a decent and straight-up guy, leaving aside his lack of judgement in working with Matt Finlay. Lou hoped he would prove to be that way in working with the landholders. She hoped the company would be sensitive to the way this had gone down.
‘There was something else I wanted to tell you, actually.’ Piper smiled shyly, dragging Lou into the moment.
She nodded encouragingly.
‘I saw Jack outside,’ Piper said, her eyes downcast. ‘I know you heard us, on the phone that day.’
Lou nodded again, feeling like she was on dangerous ground. She’d hated hearing what she’d heard, and she was glad Piper knew. It made things simpler.
‘Well, I told him I’m not going to see him any more.’ The stubborn set to Piper’s jaw looked very familiar.
Lou felt like fist-pumping. ‘Oh, Piper,’ she breathed. ‘I think that’s a really good decision.’ She thought about the way Jack had approached her in the bar the other night – his sliding stealth, the cruel edge to him, and she knew Piper was going to be safer without him. Something about him brought out goosebumps on Lou’s flesh. She remembered the stray thought she’d had as he’d walked away the other night, that there was something she was missing. She tried to shake off the chill the memory left her with.
‘Yeah, I feel better about it,’ Piper said, looking like she’d taken a load off. ‘You were right – he was exciting, but scary.’
‘Exciting good, scary bad.’
‘So,’ Piper said, drawing a circle in the beer-stained carpet with her foot. ‘Will you be going soon?’ She looked up and Lou saw a whole shedload of need in her eyes. Lou had to get out of here, as soon as possible. She couldn’t be that person for Piper, couldn’t mess her up like everything else she touched.
She nodded, her cheeks flushing warm as she clocked the disappointment on Piper’s face. ‘My job’s in the city,’ she said as matter-of-factly as she could manage. ‘But, y’know, if you wanted to, and if your dad thought it was okay, maybe you could come visit sometime.’ As she said the words, the idea suddenly seemed robust and plausible. ‘Yeah,’ she went on, gathering enthusiasm. ‘There are some great restaurants in Sydney. And food markets. And cooking schools. You could get some great ideas for what you want to do here.’
Piper’s eyes shone at the idea. ‘Wow,’ she said, almost hopping up and down on the spot. ‘That would be great.’ She frowned. ‘You don’t mean leave here though,’ she said, her face darkening. ‘Do you?’
‘No,’ Lou said quickly, horrified that Piper might think she was trying to tempt her away from Stone Mountain. ‘God no, of course not. You belong here, with your dad. I just meant … y’know, a holiday.’
Piper seemed happy again. ‘I’d have to talk to Dad about it.’ That careful frown was back. ‘Sometime.’ She paused, her frown deepening. ‘Once he’s settled down.’
Lou nodded. ‘Okay then,’ she said, standing up and reaching out to the girl. ‘That would be just great.’
Piper stepped into Lou’s arms and something almost miraculous happened. Lou Samuels, who was awkward and hopeless and bad at feelings, who never knew the right thing to say and worried that maybe she was somehow broken inside, had a perfect moment of connection. Lou wrapped her arms around this beautiful girl, this living, breathing piece of Gage, and wasn’t afraid of how she felt about her; wasn’t afraid of her own destructive power. She just felt glad: glad that she had met her; glad that she knew someone like her; glad that Piper liked her enough to care that she was leaving and to maybe want to see her again. Lou wanted to love her, wanted to connect with her, wanted to invest in her. She wanted to offer the girl something neither of them had ever had. And far from scaring her, the feeling took her breath away. When Piper finally pulled away, Lou’s eyes were filled with tears.
‘You’re so lovely, Piper,’ she said, trying hard not to let her voice break.
‘So are you, Lou,’ Piper said, her own eyes tearing up. ‘No wonder my dad loves you.’
Lou was splashing water on her face in the ladies’, thinking about Piper’s words. She had been too surprised by Piper’s statement to respond, and the girl had looked like she didn’t want to say much more as she’d loped away. Maybe she felt like she’d already broken some kind of trust. But Lou couldn’t stop thinking about those words as she looked at her plain, awkward reflection in the mirror.
Gage loves me. Gage loves me?
It didn’t seem possible. She had heard Sharni say it, and now Piper. But she was pretty sure that no matter what they thought they knew, it couldn’t be possible. For a start, there was no way a woman like her could claim a man like him. Sure, they had always had a wild connection. Sure, they had shared some incredible chemistry on that night twenty years ago. And she sure as hell knew that she had thought about Gage every minute she’d spent daydreaming ever since. But to think – to even dream – that a perfect, beautiful creature like him might love someone as flawed and weak as her – it wasn’t possible. Sure, twenty years ago they’d been more evenly pegged. Twenty years ago, they’d both been misfits, branded by hopeless parents, seeing some shadow of themselves in each other. But that was then.
Now Gage was an accomplished landowner, parent of a beautiful girl. He had earned the town’s respect, straightened his father out and carved a niche for himself. Whereas Lou, on the other hand, was still on the run – as emotionally crippled as she had been twenty years ago, maybe even more so, from all the years of running and hiding.
And then there was what she had done to him tonight. She’d sold him out, publicly, after letting him down privately two nights before. Even if what Sharni and Piper said was true, even if he had loved her, there was no way he would now. He would think she was a scheming bitch, in bed with Matt bloody Finlay and Clean Gas.
So that was that.
And what did it matter anyway? She had taken her own heart and comprehensively broken it twenty years ago. Whether or not he loved her didn’t matter. There was no question as to whether she loved him. Lou had thought, dreamed and fretted about Gage Westin for twenty years – longer, actually; since she had been aware of boys at all. Love didn’t even come close to the whole-soul affinity she had for Gage. He only had to come near her to undo her. He only had to touch her to remind her of all he was to her. She loved him. She stared at herself in the mirror, in that space where she had been kissing him a few nights before, and took in her hollow, worry-washed face. Then she said aloud the words she had avoided saying for twenty years.
‘I love Gage Westin.’
Then, to punish herself: ‘And what the hell does it matter?’
‘Of course it matters, you bloody fool.’ Suddenly Sharni was behind her in the mirror, all red curls and pouty lips and a lifetime of understanding written all over her face. Lou turned and fell into her arms.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Lou spluttered, great hiccupping sobs crashing over her and threatening to drown her under their tidal force. ‘I’m so sorry for making you think you couldn’t tell me about you and Matt.’ She held Sharni tight, trying to convey through every cell of her body that she loved her, cared for her, wouldn’t judge her for what she did or thought or said or anything. They were each other’s anchors, and that would never change; not even if Matt and Sharni got back together, had a house full of babies and made Lou watch them kissing at every family event from now until they were all a hundred years old.
‘I don’t care what you do,’ Lou continued, conscious that her fat tears were staining the front of Sharni’s lovely soft top. ‘I honestly don’t. You must think me such a judgemental bitch.’
Sharni shushed her and stroked her hair. ‘Oh, hon,’ she said, and Lou heard the tears in her voice. ‘Don’t be daft. Of course I don’t think that. You turning up the other night was the best thing that could have happened. It had just … happened, somehow. I don’t really know how. A drink, a chat, one thing led to another. Sometimes your body knows the way even when your heart and brain are dead sure it’s a really bad idea. But just you turning up was enough. Even if it happened because the lousy shit had staged it.’ Sharni was flushed as she pulled away from Lou. ‘And it wasn’t because I thought you’d judge me, but because it just let me see myself how I’ve been able to see myself since I left him: through your eyes. You think I’m so strong and capable.’
‘You are,’ Lou protested. ‘The most of anyone I know.’
Sharni shook her head. ‘When I’m with you, I feel it,’ she said, worrying at the end of one curl. ‘But when I’m with him, all the doubts come back.’
Lou pressed her lips together. ‘The doubts he plants there,’ she said, putting her hands on her hips. ‘Because they suit him.’
‘Yep,’ Sharni agreed, matching Lou’s hands-on-hips stance. ‘And when I heard him tonight, and heard everyone talking about him, I realised what a washed-up two-bit tart he really is. I felt so damned ashamed.’
‘Don’t,’ Lou insisted, unable to bear the idea of Sharni’s pain. Then something clicked. ‘You heard him? You stayed? I didn’t see you.’
‘I was just outside,’ Sharni said, shrugging. ‘I wanted to be in there with you all, but honestly, I couldn’t bear the thought of being in the room with him. And having everyone know what we’ve been to each other. They must think I’m such a fool.’ Then she paused like she was trying to decide whether to go on.
‘What?’
‘I think I’m going to stay, Lou.’ She spread her hands, palms up. ‘I don’t care what the town thinks of me. I never should have left here. I love it. The light, the space. I’ve been doing the most amazing painting. I’m not ready to go back.’
Lou shut her eyes and breathed against the pain. ‘Of course,’ she said, her heart cracking in the centre. ‘It suits you; it’s your place.’
‘Imagine what Matt will think of it,’ Sharni said, screwing her face up. ‘He’ll think I’ve gone mad.’
Lou saw the pain in Sharni’s face and felt it like her own. ‘Screw him,’ she said. ‘I can’t stand what he’s done to you.’
They both turned as another body pressed through the swing doors into the bathroom. At first, Lou didn’t recognise her; she looked so pale and wan, and there was a frailty to her that was at odds with the woman Lou knew. She was wearing a pink tube dress and hoop earrings, and she’d cut her hair pixie short. The effect was startling: it outlined the fragile bone structure she’d always had, the deep blue of her eyes, and how thin she had become somehow without Lou really noticing until now.
‘Don’t listen to her, Sharni,’ Skye chided, joining them at the mirror. Lou watched in horrified fascination as her mother applied raspberry-coloured lipstick to her face, something about the brightness against the pallor of her skin making Lou’s tummy heave. ‘She just can’t bear to see you happy with Matt.’ Skye shot Lou a look of pure contempt. ‘Not everyone’s as perfect as my Louella.’
Sharni and Lou stood rooted to the spot, trying to make sense of Skye’s words. Lou’s habitual response would have been to tell Skye she didn’t know what she was talking about, and that there was nothing about Matt Finlay that was anywhere near perfect, but it seemed wrong, somehow, to go at her mother, even when she was being such a bitch, given how she looked – suddenly, visibly, terribly ill.
Sharni spoke first. ‘I’m not happy with Matt, Skye,’ she said quietly, stepping towards Skye but looking uncertain about what to do next. Lou understood how she felt. ‘I never was.’
Skye shrugged. ‘Men aren’t always easy.’
Skye would know the truth of that, Lou thought, given all the drunks, no-hopers and violent arseholes she’d collected over the years.
It was Sharni’s turn to shrug. ‘Maybe,’ she said, watching Skye finish her routine with the lippy. ‘But I’d like to find one who’s a little bit closer to it. One day.’
‘Don’t hold your breath,’ Skye snapped, swaying slightly on the spot.
‘Skye,’ Lou started, reaching out a hand to her mother and placing it on her shoulder. ‘Mum. Are you okay?’
Skye seemed very unsteady on her feet as she shrugged Lou’s hand off. ‘Fine,’ she said, then she made a so-so gesture with her hand. ‘Bit sick today, but the bourbon’s helping.’
‘Is Bo here with you?’ Lou felt like she was in a bad dream, trying to imagine a time she might ever have thought she would look to Bo Westin to straighten out her wayward mother. How the world had turned.
‘Yep,’ she said, her tone oozing confidence and pleasure. Skye was never happier than when some man was smitten with her. It gave her life meaning. ‘He’s at the bar.’
Lou’s heart skipped a beat and her concern must have shown, because Skye rolled her eyes. ‘He’s not drinking; he’s my designated driver.’ She ran her hands through her new haircut, looking at herself in the mirror. ‘You know, Lou, you don’t need to look at me with those pursed lips and that killjoy look on your face, like y’been doing since you were ten years old. Bo’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. One little topple off the wagon doesn’t mean he’s going to fall off for good. And I needed to get out tonight. When your days are numbered, you gotta take your bourbons where you can get them. And your lovin’.’
‘Great,’ Lou said, the bitterness in Skye’s words cutting into her just like her mother intended. ‘I’m so glad it’s all peachy for you, Ma, good luck to you.’
Lou grabbed Sharni’s arm and made for the door, hot tears stinging her eyes.
‘You know, you could have some lovin’, too, Lou,’ Skye said, and Lou turned back to her. ‘You don’t have to keep running away from it.’ Skye was very still, and Lou could tell this time she wasn’t trying to hurt her.
Lou just stood there, unwilling to talk about Gage with her mother.
‘You should go and get him,’ Skye said, holding tightly to the bench beside her. ‘Explain things to him. You two …’ Skye’s voice tailed off as she stared at herself in the mirror, then she found her place again. ‘You always had a thing. You should give it a go.’
‘I’m not you,’ Lou said, knowing her mother would never know how tempting it was to run after Gage and try to make him hers. ‘I can’t “give it a go”. I can’t mess with him, not when I know that I can’t make him happy for real; I can’t give him what he wants. And I won’t ruin his life.’
‘Don’t you think that’s his call?’
‘Don’t you think it’s a little late for maternal advice?’ Lou almost spat the words at her mother, and immediately regretted them as she saw Skye’s thin face crumple a little.
‘I always liked Gage,’ she countered, moving closer to Lou.
‘I know,’ Lou said, remembering it was one of the reasons she had so deeply mistrusted her feelings for him for all those years. ‘You thought he was pretty. And you like beautiful men. Wild men.’
Skye stepped close to Lou. ‘Let me tell you this for free, Louise Samuels.’ Her breath was hot and sweet in Lou’s face. ‘I never, ever had a man like Gage Westin.’
As Lou and Sharni left the bar and stood on the footpath out the front of the Queen’s Arms, Lou stopped. ‘Y’know I’m going to have to go back in there, right, sweetie pie? Make sure she’s okay.’
Sharni nodded. ‘Just get some air first.’
They were standing, as they had so many times, out the front of the pub, where smokers and amorous couples sometimes gathered in the shadows. To their right was the big old jacaranda tree. A few strays were gathered there, hugging its edges, talking, arguing or making out in its shadows. Lou stood, trying not to let all the ghosts of her life crush her while she collected herself.
Sharni wrapped an arm around her and hugged her tight. ‘Breathe,’ she said quietly.
Then several things happened at once, so fast Lou struggled to keep up.
First, Piper came streaking out of the shadows, her face blurry with tears and an angry red mark on one cheek. She was still some distance from Lou, and she seemed to be stumbling blindly, tearing away from someone or something. Before Lou’s brain could tell her body to act, a figure plunged out of the darkness after Piper, grabbing at her arm. And the slippery pieces of memory that had been flirting with recognition in Lou’s brain since the night she was attacked at Sunset Downs came together in a coherent chain. She knew that shadow; she remembered seeing it the night she’d been hit over the head, when she had looked out the window of Gage’s guesthouse and realised the cattle were escaping. There had been a distinctive swagger to the gait, but she hadn’t been able to quite pin it down. Now she knew: it was this person, coming towards her, grabbing at Piper, whoever it was. She felt like she should know.
‘Fuck,’ Sharni yelled, propelling Lou towards the pair. The big dark figure had swung Piper around and his fist was raised for another go.
But before Lou and Sharni could get to the girl, another figure peeled away from the wall and grabbed Piper’s assailant.
‘Get your fuckin’ hands off her,’ Bo’s voice yelled, dropping the figure with a right hook so deadly accurate Lou heard a crunch of bone and a grunt of pain that signalled there wasn’t going to be round two.
Lou pulled Piper into her arms as they all looked down at the man who had fallen.
‘Jack,’ Lou whispered, hugging Gage’s daughter even tighter.
‘He wouldn’t take no for an answer,’ Piper sniffled against Lou’s shoulder.
Primal anger welled high and hard in Lou’s chest. She had known – as Gage had that day – that there was something off about this guy.
‘You little shit,’ Bo said, kicking him hard. Bo’s handsome face was a picture of rage. Lou was terrified for a moment – wondering if Bo was drunk again – but he was as sober as Solomon, his face pure fury. ‘You got what you wanted; you got the damn gas. But I told you to leave my family alone.’
Piper stepped out of the circle of Lou’s arms, and all three women gaped at Bo.
‘Yeah,’ he grunted, holding out his arms to Piper. ‘It was him, that day. Got me drunk, spiked my damn drinks. And then, when I was hopeless with the piss, he told me. Told me what he was going to do to my family if Gage kept saying no to the gas. I told him to get fucked.’ He seemed to realise who he was speaking to. ‘Sorry, ladies,’ he said, colouring a little.
The bottom dropped out of Lou’s tummy. Of course. Mitch had told her that Jack was with Clean Gas. Jack and Matt. And these were their tactics. Not only had Jack targeted Piper, he’d threatened Bo, and he’d been the one to let the cattle out and attack her that night at Sunset Downs. They had been playing hard because at that point they obviously hadn’t known about the council’s extraordinary circumstances clause, before Matt’s sly digging had uncovered it. Once they did, they had been able to play nice.
‘What have I done?’ Lou whispered to Sharni. She thought about the deal she had just facilitated between her father and Clean Gas – the ink would still be wet on it, but it was a done deal. And she had sold her town, this family, and the man she loved to the devil. Thick, viscous shame welled inside her. Why hadn’t she listened? She had been so determined to solve this, to fix this mess, that she had rushed to make it happen.
Jack groaned again. ‘Too late, sweetheart,’ he said, and managed to grin cockily up at her. ‘We were always going to fuck you all, one way or another, even if I didn’t get to fuck the princess. You guys are amateurs.’
Bo kicked him again, harder this time, and bent down to whisper something to him.
When Bo stood up, Lou turned to him. ‘What did you say?’
‘I told him if he didn’t shut the hell up, I was going to go and find Gage.’
Gage. The thought of him hurt Lou even more. She hadn’t done them all a favour, not at all. She had locked them into bed with some bad, bad people. Her brain started to creak and grind, desperately searching its files for some get-out clause. Duress? It would be almost impossible to prove, given how eagerly she had brokered the deal.
‘Lou,’ Sharni hissed at her. ‘Stop thinking.’ She gestured at Piper, who was standing to the side as Bo dragged Jack to his feet and advised him he’d called the cops. ‘She needs you.’
Sharni was right. Piper was hurt and sad and frightened. Her eyes were glassy. Lou reached for the girl and pulled her in once more. ‘We need to get you looked at, darlin’,’ she said.
Piper nodded, reaching up to gingerly feel her cheek, wincing lightly as she did. ‘It hurts.’
‘I bet it does,’ Lou agreed, guiding her over to a little picnic table and chairs that had seen better days. ‘Just sit a minute while you catch your breath, then we’ll run you to the hospital.’
Piper did as she was bid, wrapping her arms around herself like she was cold.
‘I think she’s in shock,’ Sharni said.
Lou nodded. ‘We’ll get going in a tick.’
As she said the words, their favourite policeman, Sergeant Mick Brooks, materialised, taking custody of Jack from Bo and clipping some cuffs on him. He moseyed towards the three of them, like he was taking Jack out for an evening stroll, and frowned at Piper.
‘You okay, sweetheart?’
Piper nodded, sniffing miserably.
He gestured to Lou and Sharni with his head. ‘I’ll need to talk to her soon – y’gonna get her to hospital?’
‘Yep,’ Sharni said. ‘She just needs to sit a minute.’
Lou was sure she could feel her friend perking up in the vicinity of the cop. Lou got it. There was something very solid and reassuring about his presence. He was handling Jack like a pro, seemed unfazed by the situation, able to project his relaxed aura of calm even as he manhandled the shithead towards the police car.
Mick nodded and Sharni unfolded herself from the table. ‘I’ll come give you a quick fill-in, and we’re happy to give you statements later.’ She glanced at Lou. ‘Right, darl?’
Lou nodded. ‘Of course.’
Bo moved over to the table next. ‘I think we should get you to the hospital,’ he said, his voice dark.
Lou studied the older man. His face was etched with lines of concern as he studied his granddaughter. ‘Should you go find Gage, Bo? I can get Piper to the hospital, and you could meet us there.’
Bo looked relieved. ‘That’d be great, Lou,’ he said, smiling gently. ‘I tried his phone but it’s off. Gage needs to be here. I think he must have gone home; he was in a real state when he left.’ When he saw Lou’s stricken look, he coloured. ‘Sorry, darl, I didn’t mean to –’
‘It’s nothing,’ Lou said, waving a hand at him. ‘Not more than I deserve.’
Bo crouched down and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Hey, sweetheart,’ he said, lifting her chin. And he looked so much like Gage that Lou wanted to cry – great big bawling cries that released all the pain and frustration and self-flagellation she was feeling. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. I know better than anyone round here – we all make mistakes. Nothing’s set in stone.’
But it is, Lou thought, nodding miserably at Bo. It really is.
‘So you’re okay to get Piper to the hospital?’
Lou nodded.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Piper said, reaching out to give her grandfather a quick hug. When she pulled away, she punched him lightly on the arm. ‘You were a real hero back there, Grandpa. I love you.’
Bo blinked back tears as he grunted and stood up. ‘You just get looked at,’ he said.
Piper’s face had been bathed and dressed and they were waiting for the attending doctor to give her the final okay before she went home. Lou wondered where Bo and Gage were.
Piper picked at some peeling paint on the edge of the nurses’ station. ‘I shouldn’t have gone behind the pub with him,’ she said. ‘I’d already told him I wasn’t going to see him again. I should have just said no.’
‘I understand,’ Lou said, rubbing her hands over the girl’s arms, trying to inject warmth and comfort and security.
‘No, you don’t,’ Piper said, looking up at Lou with brimming eyes. ‘I went because he said he wanted to talk. He said I’d read him all wrong. And I knew … I really did know he was all wrong, but something about him was real powerful. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to hear what he had to say.’ She sniffled sadly again. ‘Y’know, Lou, I actually wanted him to say something that might have made me feel like I could change my mind.’
Lou nodded, squeezing Piper’s hands in hers. ‘I guess he didn’t,’ she said, with a small smile.
‘Nah,’ Piper said, shivering a little. ‘He just made me feel more scared. Then, when he tried to kiss me, I knew for sure I didn’t want it. But –’ She hiccupped a little and stopped.
‘You don’t need to tell me,’ Lou said, shutting her eyes. She was responsible for this. She had done business with these arseholes. She had worked with people who had hurt Piper.
‘I want to,’ Piper said, pulling away and taking a breath. ‘He wouldn’t listen. I tried to come back, towards the pub, but he punched me.’ She fingered her face delicately again. Then she shook her head. ‘I am such a douche.’
Lou smiled at her again. ‘No, you’re not,’ she said, patting her hands. ‘You’ve got great instincts, Piper. You’re seventeen, and he was pretty gorgeous. And yet you still knew he was bad news. You tried – more than once – to say no to him. This isn’t your fault.’
Piper sniffled and buried her head in her arms, leaning on the nurses’ station. Lou just patted her back for a couple of minutes while she settled. Eventually, she said quietly, ‘You’ll be home soon, honey, and that’s going to make everything feel so much better. It always does.’ She resisted the temptation to cross her fingers.
Piper looked up from the cradle of her arms. Her beautiful face was red and streaked with tears. ‘I’m worried,’ she whispered, wiping her nose on her sleeve like a little girl. ‘I’m worried I’ve got bad judgement.’
Lou laughed. ‘Oh honey, you haven’t got bad judgement, not at all.’ How could she even think it? She was so mature for her years; she did so much, around the property, and in her family. She knew what she wanted from life already, and she wasn’t going to muck around with school or anything else that stood in the way of her achieving it. Lou thought about herself at seventeen.
Lou had been mature too, in some ways, because of the responsibilities she’d had. But she hadn’t had an ounce of this girl’s emotional intelligence. Or her strong sense of self, and her place in the world. Lou supposed that had been forged in Piper by growing up in a place she had known as home, with a father and grandfather who adored her and put her first. Piper had always known where she belonged and what she wanted, and that had to be part of the reason she had such an incredible clarity of vision.
Piper looked hard into Lou’s eyes. ‘I really like your mum, Lou, but I don’t want to be like her.’
‘That’s what you’re worried about?’ Lou’s stomach did flip-flops as she took in the girl’s distress.
‘All I ever wanted was to be like my dad,’ she said softly. ‘So strong and so clever. And now here I am, behaving just like a stupid girl.’
‘Don’t say that,’ Lou admonished, taking Piper by the shoulders and shaking her lightly. ‘Just don’t say it. Your father …’ She searched for the right words, her heart and brain filled up with Gage. ‘Your father thinks you are the most wonderful, brilliant girl in the whole world.’
Piper sniffed. ‘How do you know?’
‘Because I see it every time he looks at you,’ Lou said, squeezing Piper’s shoulders where she had shaken them a moment before, trying to convey the full force of how much she meant it. ‘You mustn’t even think about the Skye thing. That was different. She’s different.’
Piper grabbed Lou’s hands from her shoulders and squeezed them. ‘Tell me,’ she said, and her face was twisted with pain and confusion. ‘Tell me what happened with your mum.’
Everything in Lou rejected the idea. ‘No, honey,’ she said, drawing away from the girl slightly, but trying not to let it show. ‘It’s all ancient history now. It doesn’t matter.’
Piper stuck her chin out in such a Gage-like way it stole Lou’s breath. ‘It matters to you,’ she said, in a typical display of logic. ‘It’s not ancient history to you.’
‘No,’ Lou agreed. ‘It’s not. But it’s really my business, Piper. Mine and Skye’s.’ She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. ‘And anyway.’ She tried to smile. ‘It’s such a long story.’
‘We have time,’ Piper said.
Lou only shrugged, feeling the weight of her past sitting heavily in her gut, like she always did whenever she thought about it. Which was every day.
Piper looked at Lou from under her lashes. ‘I know some things,’ she said, daring Lou to talk. ‘I know you had a little sister. And I know she died.’
She wasn’t trying to be cruel, Lou knew that, but even hearing the words spoken out loud was like needles in her skin. It was some wicked Pandora’s box that, if opened too far, Lou was afraid, deeply afraid, it might swallow her up and never spit her out again.
‘And I know you left, right after, and you never came back,’ Piper went on. There was a note of confusion in her voice; like she was asking why Lou would do something like that to her mother. ‘And I know you’ve never been to the grave.’
That was too much. The floodgate broke and red hot rage escaped into Lou’s veins. How dare Skye? How dare she tell Piper only some parts of the story, the parts that made Lou seem even worse, even guiltier, than she actually was? Skye had painted herself as the martyred saint.
‘That’s not how it was,’ Lou bit out, trying hard to convey to Piper that she was not angry with her, but fighting so hard to keep a lid on all the feelings that she wasn’t sure she succeeded.
‘No?’ Piper said innocently, but Lou knew she just wanted her to talk.
‘Why?’ Lou said, her voice small, and her self-control at breaking point. ‘Why do you want to know? It’s not your story, it’s not your history. It has nothing to do with you.’
‘But it does,’ Piper protested, shuffling closer to Lou. ‘It has everything to do with me, because it’s somehow caught up with you and my dad, but I can’t work out how. I know it’s about Skye, but I know it’s about you two too.’ Piper stared into the distance, like she was looking for the right way to explain it. ‘Gage …’ She stopped herself. ‘My dad is the best. He always has been. But I’ve always known there was something missing in him.’ She paused, that thoughtful look on her face again. ‘That there was a part of him that was sad.’ She fiddled with a long piece of hair as she pieced it together. ‘I used to think it was because my mum left when she did. That he had a broken heart or something.’ She frowned. ‘And I kind of resented it, honestly. I mean, it didn’t seem right, or his style, to be pining after someone who’d abandoned us like that.’ Piper’s voice grew smaller. ‘Abandoned me, when I was just a few days old.’ She flicked the troublesome piece of hair behind her shoulder and went on. ‘But as I got older, I knew it wasn’t about her. Grandpa said a few things.’
Lou was simultaneously horrified and fascinated. ‘About me?’
Piper nodded. ‘About you and Gage.’
Lou wanted to say, Like what, like what, like what? but it didn’t seem right. She needed to shut this conversation down, not open it up with her questions. It would not be fair to anyone for her to tell Piper about that night. The story wasn’t Lou’s alone.
‘You know,’ Piper said, staring hard at Lou in that disconcertingly grown-up way she had. ‘After you came here, and I met you, I really liked you. And it made it harder to understand. You didn’t just run out on Skye; you ran out on my dad too. And I couldn’t work out why.’ She paused. ‘There’s only one thing that makes sense to me, and some of the things I’ve heard made me wonder.’ She paused again, a little longer this time, and her face was white as Lou watched her compose the courage to ask.
‘Did you kill her?’ Piper asked, squaring her chin. ‘Did you kill your little sister?’
The room started to spin and Lou gripped the table hard. ‘No,’ she gasped, trying to stop herself falling into the memories.
And then it was too late. She was back there, wrapped in the pain, and the memories were dragging her under. It was the dream, at the grave’s edge, but so much worse. So much more real and brutal.
And capable of destroying her.
It was graduation night. Lou spun gently in front of the spotty old full-length mirror Skye kept in her room. The dress was simple, but it was the most perfect and grown-up thing Lou had ever worn, and she couldn’t get enough of looking at herself in it. If she turned around enough times, she thought she might almost believe that this Cinderella moment could end happily, with her in the arms of a handsome prince and everyone living happily ever after.
But there was bugger all chance of that. No matter how lovely her hair looked pinned in the simple French twist Skye had fashioned, no matter how elegantly the red of the classic cocktail dress set off her pale skin and dark hair.
‘Like Snow White,’ Skye whispered, coming up behind Lou and putting her arms around her. Skye was in hot pink tights and an electric blue minidress, her long blonde hair pulled to the side in a ponytail. She looked normal. Well, most mothers Lou knew weren’t quite as captivatingly beautiful as Skye, but at least tonight Skye looked like she had her shit together – a rare event.
Lou wanted to believe her mother’s words. Maybe she could go after all; maybe it would be alright. She knew he would look for her there. She knew tonight, if she went, the tension that had been bubbling and building between them was bound to come to some kind of head. If she went. As the thought settled, a small hand tugged on the hem of her dress.
‘Yu Yu,’ the little voice squealed as Lou took hold of the chubby hand and pulled her up, not caring if a jam-smeared hand marked the beautiful dress. She could never resist Hannah.
‘Hey, baby girl.’ Lou smiled, spinning her around so she could see herself in the mirror too. ‘Do you like it?’
‘You yook yike a pwincess,’ the three-and-a-half-year-old declared adoringly, looking up into Lou’s eyes. ‘Going to a ball.’
‘She sure does,’ Skye said, tears gathering in her eyes.
Lou felt like she was in the Twilight Zone, her mum coming across all Carol Brady. But she knew as she held the soft little body that she couldn’t go out tonight. The event would go on too long, and it would be too late. Skye had been unpredictable lately. She seemed fine now, but …
‘Tell you what,’ Lou said, placing Hannah down on her mother’s bed. ‘Why don’t we dress you up as well and we can have a game of princesses?’
Hannah squealed and clapped her hands. Then her face fell. ‘But Yu Yu’s going to the ball?’
‘Nah,’ Lou said, working hard to act like she really meant the big smile she was showing Hannah. ‘Balls are boring. I’d rather hang with you. Anyway, it’s not really a ball, just a graduation party.’
Hannah’s still-babyish face dimpled in confusion. ‘Gwadu …?’
‘Graduation,’ Lou articulated carefully. ‘It’s when you finish high school and move on to the next thing. University, or a job, or whatever.’ She leaned in to Hannah. ‘Some people think it’s kind of a big deal.’
‘It’s a big deal for your big sister,’ Skye chirruped, skipping around the two of them. ‘She was the very best in her class. She could do anything – go to any university, do any course she likes. They all want her.’ She patted Lou lightly on the top of her hair.
Lou tried hard not to feel resentful that her mother was so excited by her results now, after years of doing very little to help as Lou worked her arse off.
But Hannah was singular in focus. ‘Yu Yu go away?’ Her bottom lip trembled. ‘To uni … ver …?’
Lou scooped her up off the bed and feathered kisses on her face. ‘Oh no, no, no, baby girl,’ she crooned against her hair. ‘No way! I’m staying right here with you. I found a course I can do right here.’ She paused, trying to work out how to explain external study to a three-and-a-half-year-old. ‘Sort of. Anyway, point is, I don’t want to leave Stone Mountain and I definitely don’t want to leave you.’
Skye raised an eyebrow at Lou.
‘Or Mummy,’ Lou added hastily.
It was true. Lou never wanted to leave Stone Mountain, not if it meant leaving Hannah, and maybe not even then. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere so beautiful, anywhere where the mountains kissed the sky. She might not be able to paint it, like Sharni, but she understood it like Sharni did. This was their home, for better or worse. And unlike almost every other kid in their year, she had no desire to get out. Hannah needed her, and Skye needed her. She belonged here. She tried not to think: With Gage.
‘I’m going to study hard, get my law degree, and set up shop right here on the Main Street.’ She smiled at the little girl, who was looking at her with shining eyes. ‘And then I’ll get to watch you get dressed up all pretty when it’s your graduation night.’
‘Either way,’ Skye said, taking Hannah out of Lou’s arms. ‘Lou Lou does have to go to her party tonight. It’s very important.’ She tickled Hannah’s tummy. ‘We wouldn’t want Lou Lou to miss her ball, would we?’
Hannah stopped giggling and turned deadly serious. ‘Oh no,’ she said, jumping down from Skye’s arms and running over to Lou. ‘You must go, Yu Yu! You yook sooooo beeyooteeful!’
Lou scowled at her mother. ‘But I don’t want to miss our playtime,’ she said gently to Hannah, sending her mum a firm message: I’m not going.
Skye scooted Hannah out of the room with a suggestion she go fetch her princess doll and turned on Lou. ‘You must go,’ she said, hands on her hips in that way she had when she meant business. ‘Don’t you think I can look after her for one night?’
Lou wasn’t sure how to answer that. Skye didn’t have a great track record.
Skye’s face softened. ‘I’m sober, Louella,’ she said, drawing an X on her chest. ‘Cross my heart.’
It was tempting. Oh God, it was so tempting. She looked at her watch. Only an hour or so until Hannah had to go to bed. Lou had already made her favourite – spaghetti bolognaise. And Skye did seem sober. Maybe it would be okay?
Even the tired old Queen’s Arms looked magical tonight, lit with fairy lights and filled with young people dressed like they had never been before. She glanced at the slim gold watch that her mother had strapped to her wrist as she had walked, still feeling a little uncertain, out the door. Nine o’clock. She wanted to be home by eleven at the latest. She had a terrible superstition that bad things happened after midnight.
‘Go get him,’ Sharni whispered, looking over at Gage. ‘He’s been giving you those damn eyes all night and if you don’t do it soon the place is going to spontaneously combust.’
Lou stared hard at Sharni, who looked a million dollars in a sparkling minidress that showed off her long legs and waist-length curls and made her look like some Titian goddess.
She hesitated, then she jumped. ‘Okay,’ she said, smiling. ‘I will.’
She walked over to him slowly and he watched her come, not meeting her halfway.
And Lou understood. She needed to go to him this time.
Oh, God, the sight of him in that black suit set her heart to racing. He was sublime, his too-long hair the perfect foil to the sharp cut of the suit. Unlike most of the other boys, he filled it out like a grown man, years of hard work on the land sharpening his body to a fine thing. He watched her walk towards him with those all-seeing green eyes and the desire on his face was so naked Lou almost chickened out. By the time she got to him, she couldn’t speak. She just held out a hand to him and they walked out the door.
It was later than she had planned. Eleven thirty. But, oh, it had been worth it. She had told Gage to drop her off down the street; the last thing she needed was an interrogation from Skye, who would have been unbearably gleeful about her daughter arriving home in Gage’s ute, dishevelled and starry eyed.
Gage hadn’t wanted to drop her off, had wanted to see her in, but she had raised an eyebrow at him. ‘It’s one street away,’ she said, laughing. ‘And it’s Stone Mountain. What’s going to happen to me?’
He had kissed her one last time – long and dark and scorching, and her body responded, again, as she was sure it always would. He grinned at her. ‘Okay, Louise Samuels. But remember our deal – tomorrow, lunch. Be there.’
She smiled back at him, her heart light and her insides cart-wheeling dizzily. ‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ she said.
She almost skipped the few blocks home, startled out of her reverie by the sound of squealing tyres and an engine gunning off in the other direction. But she didn’t think anything of it – just local boys celebrating the end of school, probably.
Until she rounded the corner into her street.
She wasn’t sure what alerted her. The little body was so tiny, it was easy to miss, lying like a discarded bag in the road. But some sixth sense told her who it was. She couldn’t even scream as she raced towards her, bile rising in her throat. As Lou reached her, she crouched down and scooped her into her arms. The little girl in the pyjamas and slippers was covered in blood. Lou was sure she was dead, she was so still in her arms, but as Lou started to run towards the house, Hannah opened her eyes.
‘Yu Yu,’ she whispered, her voice full of pain and fear. ‘I was hungwy. I couldn’t wake Mummy up. I came yooking for you.’
Lou was sobbing and screaming as she entered the house.
The first thing she saw was the untouched pot of spaghetti on the stove – no signs of plates or dishes to indicate Hannah had been fed. As she dashed through to her mother’s room, where the phone lived, she saw the television was still on, tuned to kids’ shows. And the knowledge settled inside her like a fresh pain that she already knew would never go away. By the time she got to the phone, she didn’t even try to rouse Skye. She was passed out on the bed, a bong and bottle of pills on her bedside table, some guy Lou didn’t recognise beside her. Skye’s latest conquest. Lou screamed down the line to the ambulance, still cradling Hannah in her arms, and Skye didn’t even stir.
The ambulance was there in minutes.
But Lou already knew Hannah wasn’t going to make it.
‘So yeah,’ Lou said, finishing the truncated version of the story she had told Piper, and feeling like she had been made to live the whole horrible night over again. ‘I killed her, but so did Skye.’ She swallowed hard against the bitter taste that leeched into her mouth as the girl looked at her with tears running down her cheeks. ‘Only no-one ever knew that. As far as they all knew, it was just a hit-and-run, an accident. But I knew.’
‘And you’ll never, ever forget,’ a thin voice behind Lou said. Lou and Piper both turned to see Skye standing in the doorway, looking thin and pale, a long trickle of blood beneath her nose. Her eyes blazed at Lou. ‘And you’ll never forgive me.’
‘Mum!’ Lou sprang from her chair and raced over to Skye, who swayed as Lou reached her.
‘It wasn’t like that, Skye,’ Piper said in a rush. ‘Lou didn’t want to –’
‘Save it, Pip,’ Skye whispered, her eyes rolling back in her head as she passed out.