At nine, Tim and Connie, full of concern, turned up with the dog, Jet, who was supposed to be Abbie’s guard dog. She was chained up out the front right now.
‘If we don’t tie her up she’ll come home,’ said Tim. ‘Bring her in at night.’
‘I gave her a bath,’ said Connie. ‘She didn’t like it much but she’s clean.’
Jet wagged her tail and smiled and seemed happy enough lying on the verandah when Abbie went out periodically to scratch her ears and see if she was all right.
She spent the morning trying to paint but it was difficult to concentrate and at eleven she gave up and made potato soup for lunch. Now, at twenty-five past twelve, Jet proved her worth by barking when Georgia’s car approached. Abbie flung the door open, told Jet to shush, which she didn’t, and ran down the steps, heart thudding, hands clammy with nerves.
Georgia got out of the red hatchback slowly, stretched and looked around. Made no move to give her mother a hug or a kiss.
‘Hello, sweetheart.’
‘Where’d the dog come from? Is it yours?’
Abbie stopped short.
‘It belongs to the neighbour.’ Cool it. Let Georgia lead. Don’t frighten her off. Don’t smother. ‘How are you?’
‘Can you shut it up?’
Abbie turned and told Jet to be quiet, firmly and loudly the way Tim had instructed. The racket stopped. She faced her daughter again. She’d cut her once long hair. The dark waves had been shaved on one side of her head and left at jaw length on the other. She wore jeans and a black tank top. A dolphin tattoo adorned her left bicep.
‘Your hair looks great,’ she said and meant it. ‘You look well.’
‘Thanks. I’m okay.’
‘Come in. Bring your things in.’
‘I’m not sure if I’ll stay.’
Abbie swallowed the disappointment. ‘Okay, but your room’s ready if you do. Where are you heading?’
‘Back to Melbourne.’ She leaned into the car, retrieved a large canvas carry bag and slung it over her shoulder.
‘Lock the car,’ said Abbie. Red car, not silver. When had she moved to Melbourne?
‘I was going to.’ Georgia gave her an exasperated look and pressed the remote.
‘Sorry. I mean … normally there’s no need out here but there’s been a prowler about so I’ve started locking up.’ Abbie gestured Georgia should come inside.
‘What sort of prowler? A Peeping Tom? Someone nicking your underwear off the line?’
‘No, just someone walking about at night. Outside.’
‘Freaky when you’re stuck out on here on your own. Do the cops know?’
‘Yes.’
Georgia gave Jet a wide berth despite the wagging tail.
‘She’s friendly,’ said Abbie. ‘The neighbours loaned her to me as a guard dog until Rupe catches the prowler.’
‘Who’s Rupe?’
‘The local policeman.’
Abbie led Georgia inside. She paused at the spare room. ‘If you decide to stay, this is your room.’
‘Okay.’ She dropped the bag in the doorway. ‘Where’s the bathroom?’
‘Across here, and the toilet’s there. Come through to the kitchen and have lunch when you’re ready. There’s a towel on your bed.’
Abbie left her to it and went to reheat the potato soup she’d made earlier. She put bread in the toaster and waited, fidgeting about, wiping the stovetop unnecessarily and checking the table setting, also unnecessarily, ears straining for sounds of her daughter’s approach. The toilet flushed, doors opened and closed, water ran in the bathroom. Light footsteps tapped in the hallway.
‘Nice house.’
Abbie spun around. ‘Thanks. Hungry?’
‘Yeah, what have you got?’
‘Potato soup.’
‘Fine.’
‘Like a glass of wine?’
‘No thanks, water will do.’
Abbie took a water jug from the fridge and poured two glasses. She handed one to Georgia.
‘I’m so glad you came,’ she said.
‘I nearly didn’t.’
‘What changed your mind?’
She shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Curiosity? I was going to visit Sophie and it’s not a big detour to come through here. But you weren’t home.’ Again the casual implication of guilt.
‘I was out all day sketching on Monday.’
‘Sophie talked me into phoning you.’
‘Did she? Why?’
‘She said I needed to talk to you.’
‘She’s right. I need to talk to you too. I miss you.’
Too much too soon? But it was true. They’d been so close centuries ago.
Georgia drank water and stared out the big glass windows at the far end of the room for a few moments as she sat at the table.
The toast popped. Abbie ladled soup into bowls and served lunch. Should she talk or wait for Georgia to start? Sophie deserved a medal for instigating this visit.
‘What’s wrong with this chair? It feels like it’ll collapse any minute.’ Georgia stood up and moved to another one.
‘The leg’s a bit loose, that’s all. I haven’t got around to fixing it yet.’
‘Why don’t you splurge and buy some new ones. These look as though you got them at trash and treasure.’
Abbie ignored that. She did have a point, they were second-hand but she’d liked the old wooden straight-back style despite the loose joints. ‘What’s Sophie studying?’
‘Applied Psychology. She wants to do social work.’ A tiny smile appeared for the first time ‘She’s practising on me.’
Abbie smiled. ‘She cares about you.’
Georgia nodded.
‘What are you doing in Melbourne? Have you gone back to uni?’
‘I finish my degree this year.’
‘Arts?’
‘Yes. I’m focusing on creative writing and literature.’
Abbie smiled. ‘You were always good at writing.’
‘I’m thinking of doing a Masters.’
‘Good for you.’
‘But I don’t know yet.’
She picked up a piece of toast and dunked it in the soup.
Abbie ate, pleased the hand holding her spoon wasn’t shaking with the nervous tension running through her body like electricity.
‘Why did you decide to move to Melbourne?’
‘Do you really need to ask?’
‘I suppose not. No.’ Another careful mouthful of soup. ‘But why Melbourne in particular?’
To Abbie’s surprise Georgia answered. ‘I needed to escape, obviously. I thought I’d suffocate living in that house with you—and Dad … arrested for …’
‘I know. It was a nightmare.’
‘And then when you changed your story and smashed his alibi … I …’
‘I understand, darling. I’m sorry.’ But by then the marriage was a festering mess, her own transgression minor by comparison. Except to Georgia. And Susan.
‘Aunty Susan was a victim too. We both were and she was the only person I could go to who understood completely, who loved me and cared, really cared, about me.’
‘I always loved you, and I cared. I always will.’ More than Susan. Way more.
‘If you had cared you wouldn’t have done what you did. You were at fault before Dad.’
Abbie put her spoon down with a clatter, anger rushing up from nowhere. ‘Your father had been raping and abusing young women for ten years—longer! How can you say that? You mean I was at fault before he was caught. Did you ever think maybe something was wrong in that marriage for me to even consider doing what I did? I was living with a rapist. So were you.’
Georgia mouth set in a stubborn line. ‘You didn’t have to do it with my uncle.’
The anger subsided as abruptly as it arose. ‘No, I didn’t.’
She’d never even considered Greg as a sexual partner until a couple of weeks before that blasted night. Her sister’s husband, married for sixteen years, who said he’d always fancied her, liked the streak of abandon missing in her sister. In Sydney for business with an invitation to dinner her own husband turned down. But she accepted, furious that he chose to attend a dull university function yet again. Except, of course, he hadn’t. Not on that night and, as it transpired, on all those other nights.
‘It was the worst mistake of my life. And I’ve made a few.’
She topped up Georgia’s water glass then her own.
‘I should go after lunch. If I hang around here too long I’ll have to stay.’
‘I want you to stay.’ Abbie picked up her spoon and finished the soup. ‘Did you move in with Susan after you left home?’
Maybe it was the passage of time, leaving the teen years behind, experiencing life, but Georgia had mellowed. Or maybe she was tired. The fine, pale skin under her eyes was tinged with dark shadows.
‘Sophie for a little while then Susan. Newcastle was a good place to hang out. I spent most of my time at the beach.’
‘I asked Sophie if she knew where you were. And Susan. I haven’t spoken to her since.’ The latter a terse monosyllabic denial from Susan, followed by a dial tone.
‘I know.’ Georgia ate the last of her toast.
So Sophie and Susan had both lied to protect Georgia from her mother the cheater, the family wrecker, conveniently forgetting the fact her father had been arrested on suspicion of being the Uni Rapist.
‘What’s for dessert?’
Abbie smiled. Some things don’t change. It had become a family joke, Georgia’s passion for dessert.
‘Ice cream.’ Luckily Rupe had left the unfinished tub of ice cream he’d brought to dinner.
‘That all?’
‘Yes. There are tinned peaches if you’d like some. And Gingernut biscuits.’
‘Fine.’
‘I’ll make coffee.’ Abbie cleared the table while Georgia opened the pantry cupboard and examined the contents. ‘You haven’t got much food in here.’ She took out the packet of Gingernuts.
‘I don’t need much food just for me.’ But she’d provided meals for extra people since she’d been into the town on Tuesday and her stocks were low again already. The truth was, she hadn’t wanted to leave the house unattended.
‘I’ll go to the shops later. I saw a supermarket on the way in,’ Georgia said.
Abbie smiled, back turned as she prepared the coffee. So she was staying. ‘We can go in together. When did you move to Melbourne?’
‘About eighteen months ago.’ Georgia took the ice cream from the freezer and found herself a bowl and spoon. ‘Want some?’
‘No, thanks. Do you like it there?’
‘The weather’s shit but apart from that it’s fine.’ The ice cream tub went back into the freezer a lot lighter.
‘Been back to Sydney at all?’
‘Do you mean did I ever visit Dad?’
Abbie nodded, but it was something else niggling in the back of her mind.
‘No.’ Georgia sat down and started spooning ice cream out of her bowl with a Gingernut biscuit, slurping it into her mouth.
‘I saw Kaelee on Tuesday. She came to visit.’
Georgia looked up with an oh-so-familiar crinkle in her brow. ‘Kaelee who?’
‘Kaelee from school. Kaelee Strong.’
‘God, I haven’t seen her for years.’ She gave a disbelieving snort. ‘Why on earth would she come to visit you? How did she even know where you lived?’
‘She told me she’d run into you at a party a few weeks ago and you told her.’
Kaelee had been so convincing, or was it that Abbie wanted so much to believe her?
‘No way. I haven’t seen or heard from her since we left school. We weren’t ever friends, not really. She hung around with us for a bit then … I don’t know …’ She shrugged and continued eating. ‘She was odd.’
‘She said she was studying art and was interested in my work.’
‘Maybe. She did do art at school.’
‘She had her boyfriend with her. Aaron. He was a bit weird. Very intense. I didn’t like him much.’
‘Why would she say she’d run into me?’
‘I’ve no idea. I didn’t get a chance to ask her about you. I wanted to but he was there all the time. A bit controlling, I thought.’ Abbie’s breathing caught, suddenly shallow and tight in her chest. Why had they arrived like that, out of the blue? Telling lies.
‘Kaelee was always a bit of a follower. It was risky, wasn’t it? We might call each other all the time for all she knows.’ Georgia paused, spoon upraised. ‘Does she live in Melbourne?’
‘Sydney still, I think.’
‘Well, that’s crazy.’
‘What?’ But Abbie knew already.
‘How could she run into me at a party? She obviously doesn’t know I’m not living in Sydney.’
‘She could have been in Melbourne for a visit.’
‘Except she wasn’t, she lied about meeting me. There was no party, Mum. Why would she do that?’
‘I don’t know. Odd things have happened this week. They stayed overnight and Aaron seemed to resent having to leave when I said I had work to do. He went all surly.’
‘Maybe he liked it here.’
‘Yes, but it wasn’t that sort of vibe. He was almost... nasty. I was really glad when they left. Kaelee was all right though.’
‘When was that?’
‘Wednesday. He asked for your address.’
‘You didn’t tell him, did you?’
‘I couldn’t, I had no idea where you lived. Though I didn’t say that.’
‘Good. I don’t want any surprise visits from them. What else has happened?’ She was interested now, despite her casual manner.
Abbie remembered the coffee and filled two mugs. ‘A silver car was lurking about and while I was in town it came here. When I got home, it was parked out the front but no-one was around. I got scared and went to call Rupe. When we got back, someone had taken my shopping inside and put it away and the car had gone.’
‘Who was it?’ Georgia dunked her biscuit in the coffee.
‘Don’t know. Rupe said he couldn’t do anything because there was no actual crime. Taking the shopping in is something a neighbour would do out here. That was on Tuesday. Then that pair turned up and my phone line went out. While they were here I was sick in the night. Throwing up. Aaron had cooked dinner but they were all right.’
‘Did he poison you, you reckon?’ Georgia was smiling now. ‘Overreacting much? What else? More prowler action?’
Stung, Abbie hit her with the last incident. ‘Yes. Last night someone was walking about outside and fired two shots. This morning I found a dead possum at the bottom of the front steps. Shot.’ No need to add the bit about it being already dead.
‘Wow! That’s a lot more than prowling.’
‘Yes.’
‘So who do you think did it?’
‘I don’t know and neither does Rupe.’
‘Is that what the dog’s for? Protection?’
‘Yes.’
‘It won’t be much use, will it? If your prowler has a gun.’
‘She’s coming in overnight.’
‘As long as you keep it in your room.’
‘I will. When did you stop liking dogs?’
‘One chewed on my leg when I was jogging last year.’ She stretched out her right leg and pulled up her jeans to display a long reddish scar on her calf. ‘Had three stiches and my tendon is still stiff. I can’t run anymore.’
‘That’s dreadful.’ Abbie stared at the uneven red line.
‘I fell over trying to back away from it and if a lady hadn’t come out and whacked at it with a broom, I don’t know what would have happened. I’ve gone right off dogs now.’
Silence descended. The tension drained from Abbie’s shoulders. Georgia was surprisingly amenable now after the frosty start. Maybe she missed her mother as much as Abbie missed her. Maybe she’d grown up or maybe it was just easy to slip back into that familiar relationship.
‘Did you go to Dad’s funeral?’
Abbie shook her head. ‘I read about it in the paper. The accident only rated a couple of small paragraphs.’
‘The police contacted me as next of kin.’
‘Oh. I suppose you are.’
‘He named me executor of his will.’
‘He must have made a new one after the divorce. I did. Did you go?’
‘I had to, I organised it. Aunty Susan came with me. She helped me. It was about as basic as you can get but he deserved something.’ She studied the remaining ice cream in her bowl. ‘He was a good dad.’
‘He was and he loved you. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’ Abbie sniffed back a couple of tears. Not for that miserable worm of a man but for the innocent little girl who’d loved her father.
Georgia remained dry-eyed, spooning up the last of the ice cream with a mushy, coffee-soaked Gingernut mixed in.
‘How’s Susan?’
‘Fine. She and Greg separated last year. You weren’t his first affair. Did you know that?’
Abbie shook her head. If that was intended to hurt, it didn’t. Greg had admitted as much that night but she wasn’t going to say that. ‘Susan never said anything.’
‘She wouldn’t. She said she was ashamed.’
‘She has nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘She said she felt inadequate, and then when you and he … she won’t forgive you, you know.’ An edge crept into Georgia’s voice. Susan’s bitterness leaching through.
Abbie sucked in a shuddery breath. ‘I know. I don’t blame her. She’s my only sibling … I just hope one day …’
‘Doubt it.’ Georgia pushed her chair back abruptly, the legs screeching on the tiled floor. She cleared the table and dumped the dishes in the sink.
‘I’ll clean up here. Have a look around outside if you like.’ Abbie rose as well, nervous again, guilty. A home wrecker. Her sister had taken Georgia in and given her the love and attention that should have been Abbie’s job during what was a horrendous ordeal for a teenager to endure—and then to have to deal with funeral arrangements. Now that Susan was alone, she and Georgia would become even closer. Susan had no children of her own. Abbie gritted her teeth as she put the plug in the sink and turned on the hot tap.
‘I’m going to have a sleep then we can go to the shop,’ said Georgia.
‘Are you okay?’ Sleeping during the day was unlike the girl she remembered but she did look tired.
‘Why wouldn’t I be? I just drove for three hours and Soph and I didn’t get much sleep. Is that a problem?’
‘Of course not. Sorry.’
But Georgia had already disappeared down the hallway.
A couple of tears rolled down Abbie’s cheek while she washed the soup dishes. She wiped them away on her sleeve but another couple leaked out, to her annoyance. She had no excuse for crying, no excuse for feeling sorry for herself. Her sister was the one who had that right. Abbie deserved all the anger aimed her way but it hurt, and from what Georgia had just said, Susan wasn’t anywhere near forgiving her.
How did she feel about this visit? Had Georgia told her? Would Susan actively dissuade Georgia from seeking out her mother? What had happened wasn’t to do with Georgia, it was between sisters and if Susan had intervened in some way … Abbie yanked the plug out with a vicious flick, sending suds over her shirt front.
‘Dammit!’ She wiped down the bench and picked up the tea towel.
***
Rupe drove back out to Rita’s after lunch. He’d been on the phone most of the morning, checking with the surrounding towns about prowlers. No-one had reported a similar problem, although a couple of cars had been vandalised in Mount Badgery and Cath Williams at the orchard just out of Willoughby had two tyres slashed on her ute. Presumably by bored kids. He’d reported the incident to the main station in Wagga as a matter of course and was advised to keep in touch. They agreed the possum incident was a matter of concern and had to be monitored, but in itself wasn’t unheard of.
‘You get some of these types out here occasionally. Usually doesn’t go any further,’ the sergeant said.
Rupe wasn’t convinced it was local hoon behaviour. Why single out Abbie?
Rita responded to his knocking this time by yelling through the closed front door.
‘Who is it?’
‘Senior Constable Perry,’ he called back. ‘Can you open the door please, Rita?’
‘What do you want?’ Typical surly tone with a raspy overlay.
‘Open the door.’
‘No, I’m sick and you dragged me out of bed.’
‘Do you need help? Shall I call the doc?’
‘He’s useless. I’ll be right, it’s only flu. Just leave me alone.’
‘All right, but I just wanted to ask if you heard any shots last night.’
‘No.’
‘All right. Thanks, Rita. Do you need any shopping done? Phone if you do.’
He waited a moment but she’d finished talking, apparently. He went back to the car and headed down the obstacle course of a driveway to drop in on Abbie.
Jet bounced up and down on the verandah barking like a mad thing when he parked next to the red car, which must belong to the daughter. She stopped when she saw who it was and switched to frantic tail wagging. He rubbed her head as he passed. A plastic tub of water sat by the door. Looked like she was here for the duration.
‘Good girl.’ Victorian plates on that car. He’d assumed the daughter still lived in Sydney.
Rupe didn’t need to knock with that welcome. Abbie opened the door almost immediately.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Your guard dog’s doing a good job.’
‘Yes, she’s great. Come in.’
‘No, I won’t, thanks. I just wanted to check on you. I talked to Rita just now—actually we yelled through the door. She was cranky because I got her out of bed. She’s sick and told me to go away. She sounded rough.’
‘Oh dear.’ Abbie pulled a face and smiled. ‘Is she okay?’
‘I think so. She didn’t want me to call the doctor but she wouldn’t, reckons he’s useless.’
‘Maybe I should call in and see her.’
‘I’d wait a while. Tomorrow might be better. If I’ve just disturbed her, another visitor won’t be welcomed in.’
‘Right. I wonder what’s wrong. She told me once she’s never had a cold or the flu in her life.’
‘She’s getting older.’
‘Yes, but she’s the healthiest person I know. She never gets sick. How would she get the flu? She never sees anyone.’
‘I don’t know but I’m not going back to ask.’
‘Georgia’s here.’ The smile on her face said it all.
‘I saw the car. Going well, is it?’
‘Pretty good. She’s a bit less abrasive than I expected. I’m being really careful and letting her dictate the pace but, Rupe, she’s … wonderful. I’m so proud of her. She’s gone back to uni in Melbourne and finishes her degree this year. She’s thinking of doing a Masters.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Yes.’
‘Is she staying long?’
‘I’m not sure. Tonight at least. We’re going in to do some shopping later. I don’t have enough food for her, she says. It was lucky you brought that ice cream. She’s always loved dessert.’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Sorry, I’m raving.’
‘It’s fine. It’s great she’s here and that you’re sorting things out.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’
He nodded, caught up in the deep blue of her eyes again, but she was too excited about her daughter.
‘She seems to want to keep in touch now. She’s been staying with a friend in Canberra. Sophie. They’ve known each other since school. She pressured Georgia into phoning, although she did call in on Monday on the off chance and that was off her own bat, so she must have wanted to make contact all by herself.’
‘That’s good. Okay, Abbie, I’ll make tracks. Glad everything’s fine here. I reported the possum but they reckoned it happens sometimes—idiots. There’ve been a few vandalism incidents in the area. Hoon element.’
Her expression changed instantly. ‘You don’t believe that, do you? About the possum? That’s not vandalism.’
‘They could be right. Those police have been working in the area longer than either of us have been here.’
‘All right, well, thanks for calling in, Rupe. I appreciate it.’
‘It’s my job. See you later.’
Abbie closed the door on his retreating back. He couldn’t possible agree with that cop from Wagga. No hoon would climb over a random locked gate, walk around outside the house, find a dead possum, bring it, shoot it and leave it on the doorstep of a stranger. This had to be personal. Who on earth had she upset enough in Taylor’s Bend to do that to her?
‘Who was that?’
Georgia stood in the hallway, yawning.
‘Rupe. He went to ask Rita next door if she’d heard the shots last night but she was sick and told him to clear off.’
Georgia grinned. ‘Bet that got up his nose.’
‘No. Everyone knows Rita. She’s the local eccentric. She’s nearly eighty, lives on her own and entertains herself by coming over here and complaining I’ve knocked her fences down or stolen water from her tank.’
‘Have you?’
‘Smarty. No. She was here a few days ago going on about my friends trespassing in her top paddock.’
‘What friends? Kaelee and her boyfriend?’
‘No, they’d gone. I’ve no idea who those people were, probably hikers in the national park but it doesn’t matter. Rita complains about everything and anything.’
‘Okay. Shall we go to the supermarket?’
‘Sure. I’ll lock up and get some bags.’
Abbie couldn’t shake a tingle of unease at leaving the house unattended, but she went through to secure all the windows and the back door, glad that Rupe had fixed the chain to the gate.
‘You need bread,’ said Georgia, as Abbie collected her shopping bags. ‘And eggs and milk.’
‘Make a list.’
She didn’t dare ask how long Georgia planned to stay but by the growing number of items she wrote down, she wasn’t leaving in the morning.
‘Ready?’
‘We can pick up more ice cream too,’ said Georgia.
‘And wine.’
‘Not for me. I shouldn’t drink anymore.’ Georgia turned to Abbie with an expression she hadn’t worn since childhood. Was she nervous? Embarrassed? It was almost fear. ‘I’m pregnant.’